Drops of vitality flowed along the slender iron needle from Jing Qingfu, the dying old man, into Le Yu's Divine Weapon.
Jing Qingfu clearly realized that the last bit of vitality wrung out of his fleeting resurgence was rapidly draining away.
He was going to die.
But compared to his imminent burial in the earth, what filled Jing Qingfu with grief, rage, and panic were the heart-piercing words coming from the mouth of his biological son before him:
"Attacking Half-City District was meant to suppress the Silver Blood Society's arrogance."
"Publishing the Youth Newspaper was meant to awaken the people of Dongyang."
"I will destroy everything, then have White Night rebuild it all—make the noble fall into the mortal world and the lowly stand tall."
"The Jing Family will stand at the center of the storm, burying everything, burying itself. When the people of Xuanzhu rise to their feet, the Jing Family will be the most magnificent sacrifice beneath their banner."
"You, you..." Jing Qingfu's pale, clawlike hand clutched Le Yu's wrist tightly, his nails nearly piercing the skin. His face was filled with fury, yet a sliver of hopeful light still shone in his eyes.
He still had hope.
He was still waiting.
"I," Le Yu said coldly, "am not your son."
"Jing Zhengwei died long ago from his caution and madness."
"I am merely a... swordsman who saw injustice and drew his blade to help."
"Why..." Jing Qingfu coughed up a mouthful of black blood. "Why didn't you, didn't you keep deceiving me... Yes, Zhengwei, you're taking revenge on me, aren't you? You deliberately lied to take revenge on your father—"
Le Yu lowered his head and whispered into Jing Qingfu's ear:
"The reason I told you the truth is that I couldn't bear to watch you die