There was a saying: Never urge others toward kindness if you have not suffered their pain.
Who could understand the pain hidden beneath Xiao Xuan's current smile, as gentle as a spring breeze?
From Xiao Yan's perspective, there was nothing wrong with wanting to revive his ancestor.
But from Xiao Xuan's perspective, Xiao Yan's actions were nothing less than poison.
Because he did not want to live again at all.
Perhaps the only wish in his heart was to help Xiao Yan grow as quickly as possible, until he could support the Xiao Clan's resurgence. Then, with a little less guilt, he could peacefully fade away.
This was not an attempt to escape. Well, perhaps it was, a little.
But that did not make him weak.
On the contrary, enduring endless torment, guilt, and loneliness, silently waiting within the Heavenly Tomb for descendants of the Xiao Clan—and waiting for a thousand years at that—undoubtedly required immense perseverance.
It could only be said that some people should have died long ago and should not continue living.
There had to be an accounting for everything.
If Xiao Xuan truly left in the form of a remnant soul, then he would truly be clinging to life.
For him, that would undoubtedly be cruel.
Because once he returned to the outside world, he would have to face the blood debt of the entire Xiao Clan—millions, even tens of millions, of clansmen who had died because of him!
How was he supposed to face Xiao Chen, Xiao Zhan, Xiao Ding, Xiao Li, and the others?
And how was the Xiao Clan supposed to face him?
In short, the hurdle in his heart was too hard to overcome.
Perhaps, whether for the Xiao Clan or for Xiao Xuan himself, Xiao Xuan's death was the best outcome.