A year later, Little Wilderness Mountain.
Yun Zhi and the Emperor of Great Zhao came again, along with the others, to pay respects to Yun Kong.
"Master, your disciple knew you loved wine most of all, so I specially bought you plenty to drink."
Yun Zhi poured jar after jar of wine before the gravestone, her face stricken with overwhelming grief.
The Emperor of Great Zhao beside her said nothing, his expression grave. Only after a long while did he force out a single sentence. "Old Yun Kong, haven't you broken through yet?"
He had known Yun Kong for two thousand years. Though they had been half-enemies for the first thousand years, during the latter thousand, they could be called old friends who were both enemies and friends.
Among those figures of their generation from the Southern Ridge, only the two of them remained in this world.
Yet Yun Kong was somewhat unusual. He had buried himself several times before, only to crawl back out inexplicably a few days later.
The bastard simply could not die completely!
But this time... it seemed a little different.
That bastard had not come out for a whole year!
Could he really be dead?
He shouldn't be, right?
The second year, the third year...
Thirty years passed, and Yun Kong's grave remained utterly still, without the slightest sign of being broken open.
Over those thirty years, Yun Zhi and the Emperor of Great Zhao came every year to pay their respects.
Besides them, Little Fire would occasionally come as well, to see this old friend with whom he had once traded barbs.
Little Fire had now become the Fire Qilin Clan's patriarch. His bloodline had been perfected, and he had already entered the Supreme Realm.
Though he was extremely busy managing an entire clan,