When we first met in the Heaven-Blessed Nation, you and I were the only wood-gatherers amid the wind and snow. I had the finest Academy, great scholars known throughout All Under Heaven, a belly full of talent, and a handsome face. You had only a broken sword.
Alas, how tragic!
So many bore proud names as they traveled All Under Heaven with bookcases on their backs—who else ever caught my eye?
Sometimes words were so pale, yet words were all that could record it.
How I wished you had merely come to the Demon Realm for a visit.
Rather than for me to come to the Demon Realm to mourn you... old friend!
The words carved into the bricks of Wu'an City's walls were less a conclusion Xu Xiangan had personally inscribed with a finger dipped in his heart's blood than a faint and distant hope.
He had indeed been waiting for it to come true, but now, when the Brocade Supernatural Power truly reacted, when that extravagant wish actually had a chance of being fulfilled—
His mother's, it hurt too much!
In an instant, he was covered in wounds and on the verge of death.
He lay on his back in the boundless white snow, hearing Death's footsteps at his ear.
The Brocade Supernatural Power was upon him; naturally, he could stop it at any time.
If a wish could not be fulfilled, then it need not be fulfilled.
But even here in Heavenly Stele Snow Ridge, which sealed all Supernatural Powers and Daoist Arts and could greatly suppress the backlash of Supernatural Powers, I, Xu Xiangan, am already in such a state. What kind of plight must that old friend be facing in the Demon Realm?
Forget it, forget it!
My poems and prose, Old Xu's words, spread