"So that's how it was."
A look of grief appeared on Lin Xuan's face as well. Though he was not a cultivator of the Ink Moon Tribe, ever since he had set foot on the path of cultivation, by twists of fate, he had gained no few benefits from the ruins of the Ink Moon Tribe.
As the saying went, when drinking water, remember its source. Lin Xuan was not an ungrateful cultivator, so deep in his heart, he still felt some measure of closeness toward the Ink Moon Tribe.
Now that he had heard what had happened to the tribe—how they had been schemed against by the Outer-Domain Heavenly Demon and had finally ended up in such a state—Lin Xuan did not feel good either. But matters had already come to this; words of comfort were useless. For a moment, he truly did not know how to speak.
Fortunately, although Xueling had only a wisp of remnant soul left, her true body had been a mighty cultivator at the Tribulation Transcendence level. What great winds and towering waves had she not seen? Lin Xuan's awkward expression naturally fell into her eyes.
A trace of warmth flowed through her heart. She lifted her jade hand and made a motion as though gently smoothing her hair. "I lost my composure and made a fool of myself before Young Master."
The past was unbearable to look back on, but seas had turned into mulberry fields; after all, this matter had already passed millions of years ago. When Xueling recalled it, she would of course still feel sorrow and pain, but that feeling was far less intense than it had been at the beginning.
Time was the best medicine for wounds; the ancients truly had not deceived him.
It was naturally best that