The Most Affectionate and the Most Heartless

The Dangur Desert.

Dust and sand filled the air. Groups of snake people, carrying their families and belongings, trudged toward the distance.

At the head of the procession was a red-haired snake person.

Behind her stood a middle-aged man in an ice-blue battle robe. It was Bingxuanzi, who had restored his cultivation, walking alongside Bai Ling.

After Ye Shu’s death, Medusa had returned to her clan.

She was preparing to lead her people away from this barren desert to a richer and more suitable place to live.

"Mommy, Mommy, where are we going?"

A little girl in a pink dress tugged at Medusa’s clothes. She tilted her head up, her big eyes full of curiosity.

The girl’s face was chubby, and her eyes sparkled with life.

More astonishing was her cultivation: though she appeared only three or four years old, she had already reached the Golden Core stage.

"To a place far, far away..." Medusa lowered her head, a rare tenderness in her eyes. "So our little Xi can grow up quickly in a better place."

"Oh."

Ye Xiaoxi nodded, then suddenly looked up and asked,

"Mommy, I see other families moving, and they all have their daddies helping them. Where is my daddy? Has he abandoned Xiao Xi?"

Looking at Xiaoxi’s innocent face, Medusa suddenly burst into tears.

She knelt down, pulled Ye Xiaoxi into her arms, and sobbed, "No, your daddy hasn’t abandoned you. Your daddy was a heroic figure who stood tall between heaven and earth, a peerless genius never before seen. He was just wronged by bad people..."

Ye Xiaoxi looked at her crying mother in confusion. She quickly reached out her little hand and gently wiped away her tears.

"Mommy, don’t cry. When I grow up, I’ll beat up the bad guys for you!"

"I’ll avenge Daddy!"

Seeing her earnest little face, Medusa just shook her head.

"Don’t seek revenge. Just live happily..."

"Just live happily..."

Behind them, Bingxuanzi stepped forward and patted her on the shoulder with a sigh.

"Let’s go, or we’ll attract trouble from the Taiwu Dynasty."

Medusa nodded, wiped away her tears, and carried Ye Xiaoxi as she continued walking forward.

Time flowed like water...

In the vast mountains, on a small mountain trail leading to the Qingxuan Sect, a slovenly Daoist appeared. His clothes were ragged, a coarse linen robe patched all over, with holes here and there, through which his bony frame could be seen.

If not for the topknot on his head, one might have mistaken him for a disheveled beggar.

The Daoist staggered along the mountain path.

His steps seemed slow, yet in just one afternoon, he covered hundreds of miles of rugged terrain.

In the distance, the endless peaks and a towering, cloud-piercing mountain gate became faintly visible.

Gazing at the familiar scene, the slovenly Daoist forced a smile uglier than a cry. Two streams of tears slid slowly down his cheeks, leaving faint trails on his grimy face.

"I’m back, Qingxuan Sect. I’m back."

"I didn’t find the way to immortality. I didn’t master the Path of Ruthlessness..."

"Don’t blame me. I had to come home..."

The slovenly Daoist stood on the distant hillside, staring at the mountain gate that was etched in his memory just as it was, for a long time.

Finally, he strode forward and headed toward the gate.

No matter what punishment Senior Brother Lin bestowed upon him, he did not care. Even if it meant death, he would accept it.

Go home... He had to go home...

This thought consumed the Taoist’s heart.

Ever since leaving Qingxuan Sect, the longing for home had never ceased. He could not cut off these feelings—how, then, could he speak of being emotionless?

His steps grew more hurried, so much so that he stumbled several times along the way. His already tattered robes became stained with mud, yet the Taoist’s mud-streaked face wore a smile, and his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

But when he finally arrived, his smile froze.

The Qingxuan Sect before him was empty and desolate. The mountain gate was thick with dust, and a few wild beasts had made their home there. As he approached, they showed no fear of him—only glanced at him lazily before turning back to bask in the sun.

The green mountains and clear waters remained, but the people were gone.

The disheveled Taoist stood dazed before the mountain gate. The smile on his face gradually faded, replaced by a deep bewilderment.

“Where is everyone?”

“Where did they all go?”

He yelled in helpless confusion, but all he received was the puzzled gaze of the beasts at the gate.

No one answered.

“How could this be...”

Staggering, the disheveled Taoist stepped through the mountain gate, crossing the weed-choked plaza, entering the once-glorious halls, and passing one familiar yet strange peak after another.

Every place was empty. No trace of anyone remained.

“Elder Senior Brother! Senior Sister! Junior Brother!”

“Where are you?!”

“Come out! I’m back! I know I was wrong!”

“Stop hiding! Please... please... come out...” He shouted through the mountains, like a child searching for his parents, his voice filled with terror and helplessness.

But only his own echo answered him.

He ran through every corner of Qingxuan Sect, finding no sign that anyone had ever been there.

“Senior brothers, junior brothers... where are you?”

The disheveled Taoist’s throat was hoarse from shouting. He collapsed in front of the mountain gate, as limp as mud.

Finally, he was certain. There was no one here anymore.

Qingxuan Sect... was no more.

A thunderclap roared.

Suddenly, an boundless rain poured down from the sky.

The disheveled Taoist knelt in the mud, letting the rain soak his face. He looked up, his face ashen, his eyes filled with despair, his voice cracked—

“I have no home... I have no home...”

“I have no home...”

“I have no home...”

He wept bitterly in the rain, like an abandoned child. The rain fell harder, shrouding heaven and earth in haze.

Once a lover resolved to be heartless, he returned to the path with love reclaimed.

A wanderer came home to seek old dreams, only to find that mercy had turned to cruelty.

The disheveled Taoist had once cultivated the Path of Ruthlessness, but his heart was bound to the sect. He could never sever his emotional ties.

Yet when he returned, only a handful of yellow earth remained.

“Ruthless... haha... ruthless...”

The disheveled Taoist laughed up at the sky as tears mingled with the rain. “When there is no love, what ruthlessness is there to speak of... I have... no love left anymore...”

His face was like death, his pupils unfocused, as if all hope had left him.

The rain still fell, pattering ceaselessly upon his body.

Suddenly, an astonishing aura erupted from the disheveled Taoist, climbing higher and higher at a speed that defied belief.

Early Void Refinement, Middle Void Refinement, Late Void Refinement...

His cultivation level was skyrocketing wildly.

But his hair was gradually turning white; in an instant, he aged drastically, and his life force was ebbing away. At this rate, although his realm would break through to an unprecedented level, his life would reach its end.

Yet the Daoist of Rags no longer cared.

His home was lost.

What meaning was there left to live?

Let this rain, let this rain, bury the remnants of this wandering son in the land that had born and raised him. He closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile of release.

Just then, a timid voice suddenly sounded.

“Master... Master?”