The Image Recording Stone seemed to be recording his passing. In the end, he had still accomplished nothing, gained nothing, touched nothing. How laughable.
Yet at the final moment, Feng Jinyu seemed to find release again. The countless ordinary cultivators of the Three Thousand Great Worlds were much the same; he had always been merely one of them...
He had no magnificent immortal journey like others, no immortal talent that stunned an entire region, much less some earthshaking background. He had always remained unknown, doing things that seemed utterly meaningless to outsiders, muddling through to the end of his life.
At the final moment of his muddled consciousness, Feng Jinyu ultimately smiled. It was as though he had completely accepted his own mediocrity, accepted his own incompetence. Dying in some forgotten place was fine too.
So long as he found this immortal journey meaningful, that was enough.
His faint Divine Sense stirred, activating the Image Recording Stone. He watched the most beautiful scene of his immortal journey. He had done his best; he had no regrets.
As Feng Jinyu's eyes clouded over, a black-robed figure walked up before him. It was a skeleton, ghostly fire flickering in its eyes. It looked exceedingly strange, like a soul-reaping envoy...
At that moment, he feared nothing. With a cold laugh, he said weakly, "My big brother and He Ling are living in the underworld. Just take me there."
Yet before he could finish speaking, the black-robed figure took him away directly. The recording cut off at that instant.
Chen Yanshu's gaze flickered. That black-robed figure was an Eastern Wasteland ghost cultivator.
The image paused briefly.
Then a new scene slowly unfolded. Feng Jinyu looked blank, his gray eyes lifeless, but he was still studying a map. He had also prepared many immortal resources