Ye Han looked at Ye Chunsheng in bewilderment. Why had he trusted Ye Han to keep his promise? He had simply handed over the purple-gold rune...
He looked at the weighty, fingernail-sized Purple-Gold Metal Rune in his hand. It was made of the same material as his Purple Cauldron, but he had no idea what connection lay between them.
Given the Purple Cauldron's current influence on his state of mind, however, he would not take it out lightly and let it affect him again.
At the very least, he could wait until he had brought his state of mind under control and calmed down before taking it out.
More importantly, why had Ye Chunsheng believed that he would really help him?
Was it because he was the only cultivator who had appeared before Ye Chunsheng, leaving him no one else to ask for help?
Or had Ye Chunsheng truly felt that he could be trusted?
Still, Ye Han genuinely felt that, had Ye Chunsheng lived, a few more encounters might have made them fellow Daoists who got along well, and eventually close friends who understood each other, like him and Senior Brother Zhang Qingshan.
Sadly, Ye Chunsheng had fallen just like that, dying right before his eyes.
Even at his death, Ye Chunsheng had not known his name.
To Ye Han, Ye Chunsheng's death was an indescribable pity. There were few cultivators like him left who held fast to their Dao hearts.
Cultivators lived far longer than mortals, but their thirst for longevity and their yearning to attain immortality and the Dao drove them to take risks again and again, seeking cultivation resources and arts, hunting powerful demon beasts, and confronting formidable enemies...
Strangely enough, after Ye Chunsheng handed him the purple-gold rune, Ye Han felt that his state of