Since ancient times, true heroes had rarely met good endings.
A general at the end of his road endured mockery and died silently after a hundred battles. Before his bones had even gone cold, no one cared. In that vast residence, only the young man and the old servant who fed the horses kept vigil for the general. The manor was desolate; none of his former friends or relatives came to pay their respects.
The rainy day was damp. Thick smoke from burning paper drifted through the courtyard, as though the dead man could not let go of the Yang World and refused to depart...
Crossing the threshold, she entered the house, folded her paper umbrella, and expertly shook off the rainwater. Ye Zi followed suit.
The young man rose to his feet. The old servant spoke unclearly, so he had to receive the guests himself.
"Are you...?"
"A passerby. I came to see the general one last time."
She carefully studied the young man's features and confirmed that he was the general's son.
The Spirit Hall was simple, containing only a thin coffin, and seemed somewhat bleak. Bai Yujun neither offered incense nor burned paper, for the general's own good. If she truly did so, the departed general likely could not bear a dragon's bow. She also carefully restrained her aura, lest she disturb the Lost Souls.
Bai Yujun's dragon eyes saw through yin and yang. She saw the downcast general standing beside the coffin, sighing. Some people died with resentment soaring to the heavens, filled with every kind of rage. Others remained calm and indifferent after death.
The Lost Soul saw once again the White-clothed Girl who had sold knives by the roadside, and surprise appeared on his face.
Bai Yujun had Ye Zi step forward to burn