The halls ran deep, silent and still.
These letters lay before the desk. Though the ink had faded with age, the sharp edge of an unscattered obsession still showed through.
The patterns on the four walls had once been converging Dao Patterns, but now they had dimmed into lifelessness.
Wind swept in from beyond the hall, as though carrying voices and faces from bygone days. Yet it echoed layer upon layer through the empty palace before leaving behind only a low, hollow reverberation.
Chen Xun looked at the letters and opened one.
"Old Ancestor, Ox Ancestor, I have come this far in this life, but my lifespan is nearing its end."
"The Great Dao will suffer no further advance, and I cannot fulfill either filial piety or righteousness."
"If you return, remember that I, Qi Hao, once guarded the frontier for the Five Aggregates, sword planted behind me, never retreating a single step."
The hall fell silent. Chen Xun lowered his eyes, and his fingertips paused.
A thin crack split open along the edge of the desk on its own, as if it too were bearing the lingering mark of that sword intent.
He took up the second letter.
The handwriting was calm, like ordinary conversation.
"Hehe, Old Ancestor, Ox Ancestor, it seems Ji Zhao can only go this far."
"The gates are desolate, the old companions are gone, but having been able to follow the two Old Ancestors through one lifetime was already my greatest fortune."
"If later generations speak of me, let them only say: this man once walked beside the Dao Ancestor and the Ox Ancestor."
The old lamp in the hall flickered between brightness and darkness, as though it wished to ignite, only to go out again in the end.
Chen Xun's gaze darkened