Fang Che did not want to come. For one thing, he genuinely felt that An Ruoxing retiring from public life was not necessarily a bad thing.
For another, he was Fang Che now, not Night Dream, and he was truly worried that he might lose control in front of Yin Shen Gong's grave.
Yin Shen Gong—the Old Devil who had only used him and doubted him at first, yet in the end had opened his heart to him and paved the final stretch of his path with his own life...
The thought left Fang Che's feelings tangled and deeply pained.
If the Old Devil knew from beyond the grave that the disciple for whom he had sacrificed his life was actually a Guardian spy, how would he feel?
Sometimes, merely thinking about it made Fang Che feel it was cruel.
But there was nothing he could do.
Besides, he really did miss the Old Devil a little.
The image of the One Heart Sect's leader, clad in that robe, wearing a tall crown with a cold face and holding the Blood Spirit Sword, kept surfacing in his mind.
In the dead of night, when dreams returned, the final battle in which Yin Shen Gong had risked his life—one Fang Che himself had not witnessed—seemed to flash before his eyes again and again.
Fang Che could even imagine how the Old Devil had boldly negotiated with Yan Nan when death was closing in, demanding benefits for his disciple; how he had calmly gone to his death, fighting drenched in blood.
That Old Devil, who had always lived a refined and selfish life, had retained a calm, faint smile on his face even after death.
He had known that his corpse would certainly be placed before his disciple.
He must have feared