For the next six months, Chen Lin remained in secluded cultivation in his cave abode.
He sent both Qian Ziduo and Shi Yuelan away.
He did not cultivate, either. Each day, aside from observing Zhao Qingyu, he sorted through Zhe Min's fragmented memories.
Although it had only been a strand of spiritual thought, it had come from a so-called higher plane, after all. Even the smallest scrap of information he could piece together from its memories would benefit him greatly.
"Senior, was my brother's death connected to that thing?"
That day, as Chen Lin examined Zhao Qingyu again, she finally could not hold back and voiced the question weighing on her heart.
For the past six months, she had been trapped in grief and apprehension, her mind almost on the verge of collapse.
"Yes."
Chen Lin did not conceal the truth.
"There was the aura of a heretical entity hidden on it. Your brother was contaminated, which caused him to mutate."
He gave her a brief explanation.
As for the origins of the Torn Cloth, there was no need to mention them.
"Will something happen to me?"
Zhao Qingyu asked another question.
Chen Lin shook his head. "That's still uncertain. Most likely, nothing will happen, but you should keep an eye on yourself, too."
With that, he stood up.
"All right. The dead cannot come back to life, and your brother wouldn't want you to fall and never rise again. You may leave now. Live well. Perhaps one day you'll become a Super Expert and have a chance to resurrect your brother."
Zhao Qingyu looked at Chen Lin.
She asked softly, "May I stay by your side, Senior?"
Chen Lin shook his head again.
"I understand, then."
The light dimmed in Zhao Qingyu's eyes, and she bowed before taking her