Nian Jingsheng's angry gaze swept across everyone present.
Immediately, everyone felt a chill down their spines, shivering all over.
"How pitiful."
Little one was moved to tears, her eyes moist.
Nian Jingsheng's face was covered in blood—it was impossible to tell whether it was his or someone else's—as he just hugged his wife and wept bitterly, while even the heavens began to drizzle.
Urging a person who had lost everything to let go of their obsession; was that even possible?
"Is this that evil art that preserves the physical body without decaying?!"
Everyone exclaimed in amazement.
"Daddy, he's so pitiful, so touching." Little one rubbed her eyes.
"The cycle of life and death, a dream in the end; causes arise and perish, all things have their karmic retribution in the end."
Meanwhile, Ling Yun remained invisible by her side, gently stroking her and Beibei's little heads.
Hearing Ling Yun's words, Master Xuanzhen pressed his palms together and bowed deeply, "Mercy, Buddha!"
"Qingxue... no, no, no..."
The lovely wife in Nian Jingsheng's arms slowly turned into white bones, and everything drifted away with the wind.
Her former beauty was gone, leaving behind only a skeleton.
"A single thought turns one into a demon, heh... Loving to the extreme is a sin!"
Ling Yun sighed silently, then left with the two little ones.
With his last hope shattered, even if a resurrection art existed, it was meaningless. Nian Jingsheng was grief-stricken to the extreme!
Suddenly, little one stopped in her tracks, looked back at Nian Jingsheng, and said, "Strange uncle, my daddy said, love has no right or wrong; the mortal world sees parting without constancy, but the underworld holds affection for the departed."
"Hahaha!"
"The world falls short of a child."
Nian Jingsheng laughed up to the sky and picked up