Leaving the Mausoleum

Within the cemetery, Demonic Qi surged sky-high, Fierce Beasts roared, and countless phantom figures of gods and devils rose and sank amid the Demonic Qi, howling with an eerie, sinister aura that was enough to make even the strongest warriors afraid.

Yet the old man turned a blind eye to it all and walked straight into the cemetery, his steps unhurried and his expression calm, as though those savage Fierce Beasts and strange Demonic Qi were nothing more than illusions.

He came before one tombstone after another, carefully taking several flawless white snow maple blossoms from his flower basket and gently placing them atop the grave markers. His movements were soft and devout, while he murmured something under his breath, his tone carrying a touch of wistfulness and remembrance.

Before long, he arrived at Chen Nan's "former home."

The small mound of earth had long since sunk because it was hollow within, nearly level with the surrounding ground. Only the faintest rise remained; without looking closely, no one would realize that a grave had once stood there.

The old man stopped and gazed at that faint bump, sighing softly. With a trace of compassion and resignation in his voice, he said, "Alas, who told you not to have a tombstone? Before long, I fear you will completely vanish from the memories of the world."

He paused, then slowly continued, "But perhaps that is for the best. Less glory, more simplicity. Rest here peacefully and quietly, free from the disturbances of the mortal world. Where you came from, there you return—perhaps that, too, is a kind of release."

With that, the old man slowly crouched down and stretched out his trembling yet strong hands. He carefully scattered that little mound of loose earth across the surrounding ground, his movements gentle, as