The third day of the Lunar New Year.
Outside Jinge City.
It had snowed the night before, and the weight of the snow had bent the branches of the trees outside the city.
Near a birch tree, Luo Yan stood in the snow with his eyes closed, lost in thought.
Originally, he had wanted to perfect the strike he had comprehended from Ancient Sword Shadow—the sword strike that could kill ten thousand beasts in an instant.
Although he had used it once during his spar with Bai Qixue, he had been unable to recapture that feeling no matter what he did afterward.
Luo Yan always felt that something was missing.
Thus, he closed his eyes and pondered.
But after he closed his eyes, his thoughts became like a kite with a severed string, flying higher and drifting farther away.
At first, he kept trying to pull his thoughts back, but the moment he did, they drifted away again.
After trying several times, he simply let his thoughts run free, allowing all kinds of ideas to emerge from his mind.
Before he knew it.
He recalled many things.
In his mind.
His past experiences flashed by like lantern shadows, scene after scene flickering before his eyes.
Luo Yan saw himself struggling to survive on the surface after the disaster. That stubborn figure refused to submit to fate. Even after contracting Red Poison, he had desperately searched for every possible chance of survival.
The scene shifted.
He saw himself again just after arriving in Guangling City. Beneath that strong exterior hid an uneasy heart, afraid that the prosperity before him would vanish like smoke before his eyes.
The hope he had finally found could shatter like a bubble in the blink of an eye, so he had been forced to act with