Two Thousand Years of Slumber, One Hundred Million Attribute Points

Faced with Chen Changsheng's complaints, Fu Yao, with only a breath left in him, smiled and said,

"Since I never truly crossed hands with you, I can't accept it."

"But couldn't you fight me fair and square?"

"Every time, you have to call people over. Isn't that too boring?"

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng rolled his eyes. "Come on, my identity is that of a strategist, okay?"

"Have you ever seen a strategist charge into battle? If I didn't call for help, wouldn't I just get beaten up by you?"

"That's true." Fu Yao smiled as he looked at Zhang Zhen beside him. "You did not disgrace the title of Blade Emperor."

"It is only a pity that making you join forces to besiege a dying man has left a faint stain upon you."

Zhang Zhen said calmly, "Being able to draw my blade against you was my honor. It is only a pity that you were bent on seeking death, so I never got to witness the real you."

Fu Yao neither refuted nor answered Zhang Zhen's words. He merely beckoned to Zi Ping beside him.

Seeing this, Zi Ping silently walked over to Fu Yao. The two simply gazed at one another.

Though neither said anything, they both understood each other's intentions.

After a long while, Zi Ping spoke. "I won't..."

"Don't draw conclusions about the future."

Before Zi Ping could finish, Fu Yao directly cut him off.

"You are not your godfather, and you cannot see through the future so clearly."

"Leave the road ahead to the future's own choosing. You just need to keep walking forward properly."

Looking at Fu Yao, who was on the verge of death, Zi Ping finally asked the question in his heart.

"Why do you have to die?"

"Because I'm almost unable