"It looks like something earth-shattering happened during the past decade or so that I didn't get to spend with you... Am I right?"
"After all, when I said old, I was speaking purely in terms of the body."
"This body of mine is already nearing forty."
"As for you, if I'm not mistaken, you should only be twenty-five, right?"
"Give or take no more than three years."
"In any case, you're definitely under thirty."
"At the end of the day, one's outward demeanor might be deceptive, but your physical condition and the pattern of fluctuations in your life force clearly match those of a young man in his twenties. You wouldn't deny that, would you?"
Qing Yan Jing tilted her head.
She was clearly nearing forty.
Yet when she made that gesture, it did not seem out of place at all.
It carried a playful air.
Or rather, a lively one.
Lu Yuan clearly had nothing to refute about Qing Yan Jing's observation. First, he was not the sort of person who enjoyed arguing for argument's sake. Second, Qing Yan Jing was stating a fact. Whether he wished to admit it or not, that fact would not change. His Timeline and the Timeline of the Myriad Heavens intersected in an oblique fashion. For Qing Yan Jing, every day of those past ten-odd years had passed from sunrise to sunset, from moonrise to moonset, repeating without change. She could distinctly feel every minute and every second slipping away. But for him, those years were a blank space utterly absent from his memories. Only at the moments when he appeared would his Timeline briefly synchronize with that of the Myriad Heavens. Once he left, it would swiftly lock itself away again. It truly bore some resemblance to the endings in many novels,