After their walk, the two stunned women slowly headed home.
Neighbors passed them along the way, but none recognized them. Nor did any bear the slightest resemblance to the neighbors of five thousand years ago.
"Everyone's gone now..."
Lin Wanqiu sighed softly.
She remembered so much of the past: interesting neighbors, close girlfriends, dear friends, annoying coworkers. All of them had vanished into the depths of time. She would never see them again.
They reached the apartment building.
"This shabby building still hasn't collapsed?"
"It's been five thousand years!"
Jiang Yuan sounded both exasperated and amazed.
In fact, not only had it not collapsed, it looked exactly as it always had. Every patch of color, every shade—even a patch of plaster that had fallen off thousands of years ago—remained precisely the same. No more had fallen, and no less.
Time had no hold here.
Jiang Ding only smiled.
This was the power of the fourth realm of swordsmanship: immortality. After he advanced to Spirit Transformation, it had grown even more terrifying.
Even if dozens of Spirit Transformation cultivators bombarded Fulin Garden with spells for a month, the complex would remain unchanged. Anything that collapsed would recover in the blink of an eye. Not even a child's doodle from thousands of years ago would change; every line would remain clear.
The three went upstairs. In the stairwell, Lin Wanqiu warmly greeted a neighbor, leaving the neighbor baffled but smiling awkwardly out of courtesy.
Creak~
The door to their home, sealed for nearly five thousand years, opened again.
A great black cloud of dust rushed straight at them!
It was like stepping into a coal mine. Dust filled every corner, flowing almost like liquid. One had to wonder whether the entire apartment had been packed solid with it, so much poured out