The Black Night Recedes, The White Day Arrives

Qian Lingche sat quietly at the feet of the Snow God Statue, his mind replaying the words he had just heard from Qian Daoliu through the Snow God's projection.

He leaned against the Snow God Statue; the cold stone seemed to carry a trace of warmth, gradually smoothing out the ripples in his heart.

His breathing steadied, his consciousness grew hazy, and he finally drifted into a dream.

In the dream, he was himself, yet more like another version of him.

The sky was azure, sunlight spilled over the palace dome, and a gentle breeze blew by.

His sister pulled him along as they ran joyfully, and his grandfather's hearty laughter rang in his ears: "Xiao Xue, Xiao Che, slow down! Don't fall!"

He looked back to see his grandfather standing not far away, his gaze kind and his face wearing a doting smile.

They continued to run, racing through the familiar long corridor and pushing open the front door, where the fragrance of a home-cooked meal rushed to meet them.

His mother was busy in the kitchen; hearing the door open, she turned around with a gentle smile: "Xiao Xue and Xiao Che are back? Go wash your hands quickly, it's time to eat."

The table was laden with his favorite dishes, steaming hot and overflowing with aroma.

In the dream, he laughed so purely, so carefree.

There were no responsibilities, no pressure; the companionship and warmth of his family seemed to fill his world completely.

He truly envied this; this warmth that any ordinary person could enjoy at will was something he had never felt.

As Qian Lingche laughed, a tear suddenly slid from the corner of his eye.

That tear was crystal clear, carrying the deepest emotions from the bottom of his heart, and it fell silently to the ground.

The moment the tear touched the floor, a cold aura erupted, and frost began to spread at a speed visible to the naked eye, covering the entire hall in the blink of an eye.

The figures of his grandfather and mother froze in the ice, their smiles locked in place as if time had come to a complete standstill at this moment.

The entire world was swallowed by frost, turning into a silent and frigid wasteland.

Cold winds howled and snowflakes drifted down, but there was no longer any trace of warmth.

Following this, the frozen world suddenly emitted a faint cracking sound.

Immediately after, cracks spread from the ground, rapidly climbing up the houses, the trees, and even the sky.

The cracks grew more numerous and dense until the entire world shattered with a roar.

Qian Lingche's consciousness woke from the dream; he was still leaning against the statue, a faint chill permeating his body.

He raised his hand to gently wipe away the lingering tear at the corner of his eye, his gaze cast toward the hall entrance.

He could sense that Brother Ling was guarding him outside the hall, and Brother Yi and Ling Yuan were also on alert outside.

The corners of Qian Lingche's mouth lifted slightly, his voice so soft only he could hear: "Yes..."

He pressed his palm gently against the Snow God Statue, and a familiar, cold, and pure power surged into his body.

Inside the Consecration Palace, Qian Daoliu prayed silently to the Angel God Statue.

Suddenly, countless faint points of light appeared before him, gradually condensing into an illusory figure.

Through the divine power of the Snow God, Qian Lingche was able to project his consciousness into the Consecration Palace.

Qian Daoliu watched Qian Lingche, who was gradually taking shape before him, a flash of surprise in his eyes: "You are...?"

Qian Lingche slowly opened his eyes and looked at Qian Daoliu: "I have come to make things clear with you, Great Grandmaster."

Qian Daoliu was slightly stunned. Great Grandmaster... A complex expression flashed across his eyes: "You... what do you want to say?"

Qian Lingche turned his back to look at the Angel God Statue: "I heard what you said, and I understand that everything you do is for the Angel God."

"I am twelve years old this year. Since I can remember, I have never received a single hug or a word of concern from you."

Qian Lingche gave a bitter laugh, his voice tinged with self-mockery: "I once wondered, why don't you like me?"

"Is it because of my martial soul, or because my personality isn't decisive enough? Or perhaps, some other reason."

He had clearly already let it go, yet he had learned this truth.

This incredibly cruel, incredibly ironic truth—a truth he could not accept.

"But I never expected it to be because of this, because of this so-called godhood."

His tone carried deep exhaustion; the doubts and repression of many years had finally found an outlet: "I once thought that as long as I worked hard enough and was strong enough, I could earn your recognition."

As he spoke, Qian Lingche's voice rose sharply, a flash of anger and resentment in his eyes as he turned to look directly at Qian Daoliu: "When did I ever want this godhood?"

"A mortal's lifespan is but a hundred years, a Title Douluo's a few hundred; others can live like that, why can't I?"

What godhood, what Pope—what did these even amount to? Why force things upon him that he had never wanted!

"How could I ever compete with my sister for the godhood? Just because of such a vague, ethereal possibility, you abandoned me!"

Qian Daoliu's expression faltered; he was silent for a moment before saying: "Xiao Che, you may not understand, but..."

For some reason, he felt an inexplicable panic in his heart, as if something was about to disappear.

Qian Lingche suddenly raised his hand, cutting off Qian Daoliu's words.

The anger in his eyes gradually subsided, replaced by an eerie calm: "Great Grandmaster, I do not hate you, but the past is the past."

"No matter how long the night may be, the day will eventually dawn."

"Once the sky brightens, there is no longer any need for candlelight."

Qian Lingche's body gradually dissipated, transforming into countless tiny specks of light that drifted slowly toward the distance.

"I will become a god before my sister, and I will open the Inheritance Passage for her; you do not need to sacrifice yourself."

"From this moment on, you and I are nothing but strangers."

Qian Daoliu stood where he was, his gaze tightly following those specks of light.

"Xiao Che..."

He reached out his hand, as if wanting to grasp something, but could only let those specks of light slip through his fingers.

Only at this moment did Qian Daoliu finally realize what he was about to lose...

Qian Daoliu stood where he was, his gaze dazed as he followed those gradually dissipating specks of light until they vanished completely into the distant horizon.

His figure appeared exceptionally lonely within the vast Consecration Palace, as if he had aged significantly in an instant.

After a long while, he turned slowly and walked with heavy steps toward the Angel God Statue.

The golden statue remained sacred, emitting a faint glow.

Qian Daoliu's knees buckled, and he knelt before the statue, his head bowed as he asked with a trace of unconcealable confusion and pain, "God... have I truly... done wrong?"

Because of a groundless possibility, he had forced that child to endure so many years of solitude.

He had never asked him what he truly wanted or what he did not want; he had simply arranged his entire life for him...

He was his own kin... yet he... had not even fulfilled a shred of his responsibility as a grandfather...