"Is that so..."
Bai Heng subconsciously crumpled the medical report in his hand, wrinkling it.
But it was not because he was nervous. On the contrary.
A strange sense of relief rose in his heart.
Two unrelated timelines had still converged in a peculiar way.
Perhaps that, too, was inevitable.
He kneaded the medical report into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket. Then he laid his palms flat on his knees and said evenly,
"Actually, I've heard this story before, and I know some of its details, including why he provoked Lord of the Divine Bow."
Jingliu seemed intrigued. She sat down against the edge of the bed but said nothing, silently assuming the posture of an attentive listener.
Bai Heng continued, his tone unhurried, like a storyteller, yet also as if he were recounting his own tale.
Though the story itself was somewhat plain, like a third-rate tale from a teahouse, when told by Bai Heng, it gained an indescribable vividness.
Yet when he reached the end, Bai Heng's expression remained calm.
"That was the story. In the lair of that ancient beast, he made his final choice. One person dies, or... they die together."
"He never considered any so-called next life. The reason he chose the former was that, after leaving childhood behind, he had long understood the logic of adulthood—death was merely another name for living."
"To make the sun set, one had to fly higher than the sun. And when he looked upon the treetop of existence, above that 'sun,' wherever his gaze reached, there were gods."
"Before the overwhelming power of Aeons, all falsehoods were as worthless as weeds. He could not pray to them. The only thing he could do was use the most joyful method to drag down the god that