Carefree Sect

Of all things that steal the soul, none surpasses parting.

Gao Xian had long expected Zhou Yuling's departure. He had thought he was prepared to accept it all. Yet when he saw the message she had left behind centuries ago, the sorrow in his heart surged and crashed like a great tide, impossible to suppress.

He had mourned Yun Zaitian and Yun Qiushui's deaths as well, but even more than grief, he had felt fury at the tragic deaths of his elders and kindred spirits.

Drawing his sword among ten thousand peaks, he had cut down his enemies in wrath, venting the anger and grief in his heart.

But at this moment, Gao Xian could only silently bear this sorrow himself—a sorrow not intense, yet lingering and profound.

Like bleak autumn rain: not particularly cold, yet carrying a chill that seeped into the marrow...

Li Feihuang quietly watched Gao Xian. After centuries apart, this man had become ever more handsome and lofty. Even the deep sorrow he now wore possessed a soul-stealing charm.

No wonder Yuling had never forgotten Gao Xian until her death. Though this man was passionate, he was also deeply devoted. In truth, Li Feihuang was no different from Yuling; her cultivation was simply higher, allowing her to barely restrain her emotions.

Even so, seeing Gao Xian so despondent and wounded, she could not help wanting to comfort him. But this was where Yuling had passed away. She had to restrain herself.

Only after a long silence did Gao Xian softly sigh. He lifted his head to gaze out at the vast, bright-blue sea, and his eyes gradually calmed.

From the moment one was born, one raced without pause toward death.

It was precisely because of the fear of death that life seemed so precious and beautiful.