Time passed quickly.
They got married and built their careers. Once their lives had stabilized, they finally had children.
Triplets!
For a time, Zhao Cheng had even considered giving up on the children. Carrying three at once was undoubtedly extremely dangerous for Zhao Xiuxiu, but Zhao Xiuxiu still insisted.
Fortunately, in the end, both mother and children were safe.
The only problem was that their once-comfortable life suddenly became financially strained.
Four-legged money-devouring beasts—and there were three of them at once. It was far from easy.
Fortunately, during that difficult time, Zhao Cheng's career progressed very smoothly, though his swordsmanship inevitably fell behind.
In life, one ultimately had to make choices and sacrifices.
At last, the children grew up and started families and careers of their own, while Zhao Cheng and Zhao Xiuxiu grew old as well.
They returned to their hometown and went nowhere else, peacefully enjoying their remaining years.
When Zhao Xiuxiu reached ninety, her life came to its end. Zhao Cheng held her in his arms and passed away with a smile as well.
In reality, Zhao Cheng woke once more.
His self-radiance shone brilliantly. His spiritual world kept expanding, then compressing, both processes occurring at once, and the speed of its growth was frightening.
Without question, Zhao Cheng's current method of cultivation was somewhat inconceivable.
Yet Zhao Cheng also understood that such grand dreams were not limitless. In a sense, they were a temporary convergence of causes and conditions—a fortunate creation born only from countless fateful coincidences coming together, along with the subtleties of his own comprehension.
Perhaps in the future, he would be able to dream a lifetime anytime, anywhere. But not yet.
Waking from one dream, Zhao Cheng fell asleep again.
On a scorching summer afternoon during vacation, Zhao Cheng was awakened