As he parted with Li Qiubai outside the courtyard, Jiang Che had actually hesitated: should he simply tell Li Qiubai that he was in danger, that he would never live to see the future?
Watching Li Qiubai step into the dusk, Jiang Che had a powerful feeling: he was walking straight toward his death.
Nearly a full day of easy conversation had made Jiang Che genuinely like the man. If he could save him, he would gladly lend a hand.
But in the end, he held himself back.
There was no point.
This was only an instance. Everything that happened here had already been frozen into its final outcome long ago. Jiang Che did not even count as a passing traveler; at most, history was replaying before his eyes. No matter how much he changed, it would make no difference.
Jiang Che could not save Li Qiubai.
He could only save himself.
And to save himself, he needed more clues from the instance. On this first visit, the more he learned about the original storyline, the better. All he could guess now was that Li Qiubai would die, and that his death might be connected to whatever he was going to do tonight.
But how he died, why, and who caused it-Jiang Che knew none of that.
He needed to get to the bottom of this.
Previously, he had still harbored a little wishful thinking. The idea that someone within the Azure Mystic Mountain Gate wanted to harm him had sounded like a tale from the Arabian Nights. He was a hero of Ailin, favored by a Foundation Establishment cultivator, and a well-known rising talent of Jingxiao. Would someone really court death by harming him for no reason?
Yet the fact remained that Li Qiubai, whose circumstances resembled his own-and