The River of Fate was mysterious and profound, its quiet gurgling current bearing a white boat along.
True Lord Jiang stood aboard the immortal boat, suspended in the air as he drifted forward, his gaze distant.
He had been gazing for a long time.
He had come here before.
That felt like a story from a very long time ago.
Back then, all was pitch-black before and behind him; his gaze could not pierce the river water.
Now, he still could not see anything ahead or behind, because his fate no longer permitted the prying eyes of others. His fate lay in his own hands.
Every moment of the future could be called unknown, but the vast majority of them would be outcomes determined by his will.
At last, he could command himself. Only, it had taken many years.
The ever-shifting fates of countless living beings had ultimately formed such a tranquil river.
He waited here in silence, and finally understood that no one would wave to him.
Time flowed away like water; the past could not be pursued.
Flower in the Mirror, Moon in the Water—ultimately a dream. Southern Dipper, Northern Dipper—all came to nothing.
Today, blood divination beheld fate's reckoning—
An old friend would never be seen again.
A man who had understood how to manipulate fate so early had, strangely enough, not known to leave even a trace of fate for himself.
Had he seen the ending long ago?
Had he accepted it long ago?
Jiang Wang remained silent, then finally looked ahead.
A few drops of mosquito blood were naturally not enough to gaze across the ages and trace the fate of the <Blood Demon Art of Extinguishing Emotion and Desire>.
But the Blood Divination Art was merely a lead. What Jiang Wang truly relied upon