Qian Lingche sat quietly at the foot of the Snow God Statue, the words he had just heard from Qian Daoliu through the Snow God's projection replaying over and over in his mind.
He leaned against the Snow God Statue. The cold stone seemed to carry a trace of warmth, gradually calming the turmoil within him.
His breathing steadied, and his consciousness grew hazy until he finally drifted off to sleep.
In his dream, he was himself, yet more like another version of himself.
The sky was a brilliant blue, sunlight spilled across the palace rooftops, and a gentle breeze drifted by.
His older sister tugged him along as they ran merrily, while their grandfather's hearty laughter rang in their ears. "Xiao Xue, Xiao Che, slow down! You'll fall!"
He looked back. His grandfather stood not far away, gazing at them kindly, his face bright with an indulgent smile.
They kept running, dashing down familiar corridors before pushing open the door to their home. The aroma of cooking rushed out to greet them.
Their mother was busy in the kitchen. At the sound of the door opening, she turned, a gentle smile on her face. "Xiao Xue, Xiao Che, you're back? Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready."
The table was laden with all his favorite dishes, steaming hot and fragrant.
In the dream, he smiled so purely, so carefree.
There were no responsibilities, no pressure. His family's company and warmth seemed to fill his entire world.
He truly envied it. Such warmth was something ordinary people could enjoy whenever they wished, yet he had never felt it.
As Qian Lingche smiled, a tear suddenly slipped from the corner of his eye.
The tear gleamed like crystal, carrying the deepest emotions in his heart as it silently fell to the ground.
The instant it touched the ground, a wave of icy energy burst forth. Frost spread at a visible pace, covering the entire hall in the blink of an eye.
His grandfather and mother froze in the ice, their smiles fixed in place, as if time itself had come to a complete standstill.
The entire world was swallowed by frost, transformed into a silent, frigid wasteland.
The bitter wind howled and snowflakes drifted down, but there was no warmth left.
As the world sealed in ice fell silent, a faint crack rang out.
Then fissures spread from the ground, quickly climbing over houses, trees, and even the sky.
The cracks multiplied and grew denser until, at last, the whole world shattered with a roar.
Qian Lingche's consciousness awoke from the dream. He was still leaning against the statue, a faint chill lingering around him.
He raised a hand and gently wiped away the tear remaining at the corner of his eye, his gaze turning toward the hall entrance.
He could sense Brother Ling keeping watch over him outside the entrance, while Brother Yi and Ling Yuan stood guard nearby.
The corners of Qian Lingche's mouth lifted slightly. His voice was so soft that only he could hear it. "That's right..."
He gently pressed his palm against the Snow God Statue, and a familiar power—cold and pure—surged into his body.
Inside the Worship Hall, Qian Daoliu stood quietly, praying before the Angel God Statue.
Suddenly, countless faint specks of light appeared before him, gradually gathering into a hazy figure.
Through the Snow God's Divine Power, Qian Lingche had projected his consciousness into the Worship Hall.
Qian Daoliu watched as Qian Lingche gradually took shape before him. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. "What is this...?"
Qian Lingche slowly opened his eyes and looked at Qian Daoliu. "I came to make things clear with you, Grand Elder."
Qian Daoliu froze for a moment. Grand Elder... A complicated look passed through his eyes. "You... What do you want to say?"
Qian Lingche turned his back to him and looked toward the Angel God Statue. "I heard what you said. I understand, too. Everything you did was for the Angel God."
"I'm twelve this year. As far back as I can remember, I've never received a hug from you, or even a word asking how I was."
Qian Lingche let out a bitter laugh, his voice edged with self-mockery. "I used to wonder why you didn't like me."
"Was it because of my Martial Soul? Because I wasn't decisive enough? Or was it something else?"
He had already let it go, and yet he had learned the truth all the same.
A truth so cruel, so ironic, that he could not accept it.
"But I never expected it to be because of this—because of this so-called divine position."
His voice was filled with deep weariness. At last, the doubts and repression that had burdened him for years found an outlet. "I always thought that if I worked hard enough, if I became strong enough, I would earn your approval."
As he spoke, Qian Lingche's voice suddenly rose. Anger and resentment flashed in his eyes as he turned to face Qian Daoliu. "When did I ever want this divine position?"
"Ordinary people live for no more than a hundred years. Titled Douluo live for a few hundred. Others can live that way just fine. Why can't I?"
What divine position? What Pope? What did any of that matter? Why force something he had never wanted onto him?
"How could I possibly compete with my sister for the divine position? Just because of some vague, uncertain possibility, you gave up on me!"
Qian Daoliu's expression faltered. He fell silent for a moment before speaking. "Xiao Che, perhaps you don't understand, but..."
For some reason, an inexplicable dread stirred in his heart, as if something was about to disappear.
Qian Lingche suddenly raised a hand, cutting Qian Daoliu off.
The anger in his eyes gradually subsided, replaced by an eerie calm. "Grand Elder, I don't hate you, but the past is past."
"No matter how long the night, daylight will come in the end."
"Now that the sun has risen, there's no longer any need for a candle."
Qian Lingche's body slowly faded, turning into countless tiny specks of light that drifted away.
"I'll become a god before my sister, and I'll open the Inheritance Passage for her. You won't have to sacrifice yourself."
"From now on, we're strangers."
Qian Daoliu stood where he was, his eyes following the specks of light.
"Xiao Che..."
He reached out, as though trying to grasp something, but could only let the specks of light slip between his fingers.
Only now did Qian Daoliu finally understand what he was about to lose...
Qian Daoliu stood rooted to the spot, staring dazedly after the specks of light as they faded away, until they vanished completely into the distant sky.
His figure looked especially lonely in the cavernous Worship Hall, as if he had aged many years in an instant.
After a long while, he slowly turned and trudged toward the Angel God Statue.
The golden statue remained sacred, emanating a faint glow.
Qian Daoliu's knees buckled. He knelt before the statue, head bowed, and asked in a voice thick with confusion and pain, "God... Did I really... do wrong?"
Because of a possibility that might never have come to pass, he had let that child endure years of loneliness.
He had never asked what the boy wanted, or what he didn't. He had simply arranged the boy's whole life for him...
He was family... And yet he... had failed to fulfill even the smallest part of his duty as a grandfather...