Lin Qingzhou sat in the room, his mind in a muddle as he went over everything he had experienced these past few days again and again. His heart felt heavy, though he couldn't say whether it was from emotion or something else.
But before those feelings had a chance to fade, he glanced at Na'er, who was growing taller by the day, her features becoming more and more lively, and his heart clenched again. That inescapable worry quietly wound its way around his heart, impossible to drive away.
He knew it as clearly as if it were written on a mirror: the plotline of the original story had long been etched in stone, and the day Gu Yue would come to take Na'er away was drawing closer by the day, like a countdown ticking away in his heart.
That sense of urgency, of impending disaster, couldn't be suppressed by willpower. It was like a densely woven net wrapping around him, tightening with every moment until even breathing felt like a struggle, leaving him consumed by restless anxiety with nowhere to go.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought about fighting back, or doing something to keep Na'er by his side. He had tried desperately to break free of this predetermined line of fate, but in the end, he still couldn't do anything. He had no solution at all.
That deep sense of helplessness was like an icy needle bristling with thorns, stabbing him in the heart again and again, cold and painful. He couldn't help hating himself from the bottom of his heart—hating how useless he was, unable to protect even the person he wanted to protect.
What could Lin Qingzhou do? He had no Martial Soul. He was just an ordinary person, not even qualified to enter that world.
"My life... just how miserable is it?"
Lin Qingzhou slouched sideways against the chilly back of his chair. Moonlight spilled through the crack in the window and fell squarely across his face, cutting it sharply in two, light and dark.
Half his face was buried in pitch-black shadow, concealing his overwhelming helplessness and his struggle against despair. The other half was bathed in the cold moonlight, but the desolation and dejection in his eyes couldn't be hidden, even with the light upon them. They weighed so heavily on him that he could barely breathe.
He let out a long sigh. It was a hoarse sound, heavy with the exhaustion he had endured and the resignation of having no choice but to bow his head.
"Forget it. I'll stop thinking about it and get some sleep. I still have to get up early tomorrow to work the forge and earn money. I'll just get through one day at a time. What else can I do?"
His body felt as though it were filled with lead, and every step weighed him down. He slowly made his way back to the bed and lay down. In the dim light, his thin, desolate silhouette looked utterly forlorn.
No matter how unwilling he was, no matter how much he resisted, there was nothing he could change for now. He could only be pushed forward by fate, with no say in the matter.
Outside the window, the night sky over Aolai City no longer glittered with its usual blanket of stars. Thick clouds piled one upon another, shrouding every star until the entire sky was pitch-black, not a glimmer of light breaking through. The silence was terrifying.
Only in the deepest reaches of the clouds did faint flashes of light occasionally appear. One could almost sense thunder rolling and brewing within them. A heavy, oppressive atmosphere came crashing down from above, making everyone feel inexplicably uneasy, as if something were about to happen.
It was plain to see: tomorrow would be anything but peaceful.
Meanwhile, in a remote, gloomy, dimly lit church, the atmosphere had grown oppressive to the extreme.
At the very center of the church stood an unfamiliar idol. Its features were indistinct, and the aura emanating from it was both strange and sinister. Anyone standing nearby would feel their heartbeat quicken and their heart seize with fear.
Before the idol, a man with a hideously twisted face sat cross-legged in meditation, surrounded by a dense, sinister aura that blended into the surroundings.
He looked especially devout, his eyes full of fanatical obsession. Judging only by his appearance, anyone would have thought him a pious believer, devoted heart and soul to the gods.
But one look at what he clutched tightly in his hand shattered that lovely illusion.
It was a lump of bloody, crimson flesh that still throbbed faintly. Sticky, bloody vapors drifted from it. Just one glance was enough to make someone's scalp crawl and their whole body feel uneasy, their nerves tightening in alarm.
The man kept muttering something, his words blurred and indistinct. He spoke in obscure, incomprehensible incantations, his tone bizarre. No one could understand what he was saying.
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. At last, he shoved the lump of flesh into his mouth and chewed it messily. Scarlet blood trickled from the corners of his lips, dripping onto his clothes and the floor. The sight was so horrifying it sent chills down one's spine.
"Clang!"
The dull rumble of a stone door suddenly shattered the church's deathly silence. The cold, heavy door was forced open from outside.
Dozens of black-clad figures, their faces hidden beneath their hoods, entered in two orderly lines. They slowly approached the idol, then bowed in unison to the man, their voices low and reverent.
"Greetings, Chief! Your subordinates have finished investigating. Aolai City is where Feng Qingyun entered meditation and passed away all those years ago!"
The man called Chief snapped his eyes open at once. His pupils were blood-red, and a terrifying glint of murderous light burst from them.
Like a bloodthirsty Ferocious Beast that had gone hungry for ages, he fixed his gaze on the messenger. The sinister aura around him surged violently, pressing down on everyone until they could barely straighten their backs.
The next second, he threw his head back and burst into frenzied laughter. The shrill, piercing sound echoed back and forth through the vast church, making everyone's skin crawl.
Yet the subordinates standing below remained expressionless, not a trace of surprise on their faces. Clearly, they had followed him for so long that they were used to this sort of scene.
"Hahahaha! Excellent! This is wonderful news! Feng Qingyun, that peerless cultivation method that let you defy fate and change your life back then will finally fall into my hands. With it, I'll break through the bottleneck of my current realm and advance my cultivation to the next level!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the frenzied smile on his face suddenly froze. His expression darkened, turning terrifying, and a violent coughing fit abruptly cut off his laughter. He couldn't even get out a complete sentence.
"Cough, cough... cough... cough, cough, cough!"
His coughs came one after another, harsh and hoarse, painful just to hear. The subordinates standing nearby didn't dare waste a moment.
They hurriedly and respectfully offered him another lump of flesh. It throbbed faintly too, exactly like the one the Chief had held earlier, and was just as indescribably bizarre.
The man called Chief snatched the lump of flesh and swallowed it whole. Before long, his rapid coughing stopped completely.
His face, which had grown old and gaunt from dwindling lifespans and depleted vitality, slowly recovered before their eyes. The aura of decay that had clung to him gradually steadied, and he returned to his former appearance: sinister and composed.
"I don't have much time left. My lifespan is nearly exhausted. If I can't break through this final barrier, I'm afraid I'll truly perish, with no chance of ever making a comeback."
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