The instant he saw the emblem, an inexplicable sense of calling welled up in Lin Qiye's heart.
The feeling was strange, as though everything had been predestined. The moment the emblem lying in the snow reflected his charred, festering face, countless scenes flashed through his mind like a film.
Zhao Kongcheng drawing his blade to slay ghosts on a rainy night; Zhou Ping wielding his sword against gods beyond the mist; Lu Qiu risking his life to deliver a message at Chenglong Pass; the Great Xia Gods sacrificing themselves to become steles by the border...
At this moment, Lin Qiye saw the radiance emanating from them as well.
It was on that emblem.
It had always been within him. It was clearly so close to him, yet it had seemed so far away.
His entire body charred black, Lin Qiye stretched out his trembling hands and dug that radiance out of the snow as though cradling a priceless treasure, holding it in his palms.
What had fallen into the snow was not merely an emblem. It was also the piece of faith and mission belonging solely to a Night Watchman that had been missing from Lin Qiye's heart.
It was what he had lost over the past few years, and the root cause of his confusion and self-doubt.
The instant he clenched the emblem, all the uncertainty and doubt in his heart seemed to have found their answers.
Lin Qiye smiled.
He smiled happily. Even though another savage, bloody crack split across the corner of his carbonized, blackened mouth, his eyes had never been brighter.
"I've used up all the ancient poems from home and poetry from abroad... This time, I want to try something else."
He slowly rose to his feet. Amid the blizzard, he looked up at the