The Image Recording Stone seemed to be recording his passing. In the end, he had still achieved nothing, gained nothing, touched nothing. It was laughable in the extreme.
Yet in that final moment, Feng Jinyu seemed to find release once more. Billions upon billions of ordinary cultivators in the Three Thousand Great Worlds were much the same; he had always been merely one of them...
He had none of another's magnificent Immortal Path, no Immortal Dao Talent astounding an entire region, much less any earthshaking background. He had always remained obscure, doing things that outsiders found utterly meaningless, muddling through life until it came to an end.
In the final moment of his muddled consciousness, Feng Jinyu ultimately smiled. It was as though he had completely accepted his mediocrity, accepted his incompetence. Dying in some place where no one cared was fine too.
It was enough that he himself found this Immortal Path meaningful.
His faint divine consciousness stirred as he activated the Image Recording Stone and watched the most beautiful scene from On His Immortal Path. He had done his utmost. He had no regrets.
As Feng Jinyu's eyes grew clouded, a black-robed figure walked up before him. It was a skeleton, ghostly fire flickering in its eyes. It looked exceedingly strange, like a soul-reaping envoy...
At this moment, he feared nothing. He gave a cold laugh and weakly said, "My Big Brother and He Ling live in the Netherworld. Just take me there."
Yet before he could finish speaking, the black-robed figure took him away directly. The recording cut off at that moment as well.
Chen Yanshu's gaze flickered. That black-robed figure was an Eastern Wasteland ghost cultivator.
The image paused briefly.
Then another scene slowly unfolded. Feng Jinyu wore a wooden expression, his gray eyes devoid of