It's always been you who let go first.

At the same time—

Deep in the clouds beyond the known world, there lay a hidden vale within the mountains.

In a mist-shrouded hollow, a broken sword stood slanted in the earth. Its blade was covered in cracks, as if it might shatter at any moment, with faint cyan light flowing through the fissures.

But on this very day, something strange began to stir.

The dim sword seemed to sense something. Suddenly, it let out a low hum, and the blade flickered with a breathing-like cyan glow—bright, then dim, like a heartbeat.

"Uncle Sword, Xiaoxue has come to see you~"

At that moment, a little girl in a pink dress came trotting over, barefoot, her chubby cheeks rosy. She carried a small watering can, and when she heard the deep hum, she blinked her big, watery eyes and peered curiously at the broken sword.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Seeing the sword glow, the little girl threw up her hands and bolted, running toward a bamboo cottage not far away, calling out in her babyish voice.

"It's glowing! It's glowing!"

She burst into the cottage and ran straight for the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, a young woman with her hair coiled up and a fresh, pretty face was wearing an apron, spatula in hand as she cooked. Hearing her daughter's excited shouts, she sighed with mild exasperation and said, "What's all this about glowing? Look at you, running around like that—what if you trip and fall?"

"It's... it's..."

Ye Xiaoxue's little face was flushed as she panted and pointed outside the cottage. "It's Uncle Sword! He's glowing, like he's come alive!"

She stared with wide, round eyes, looking completely certain.

"What?!"

Lin Qingxue's face went pale with shock.

She tossed the spatula into the pot, abandoning the food entirely, and shot out of the kitchen like a gust of wind.

"Eeek!"

Little Xiaoxue, who happened to be blocking the doorway, was sent flying. She tumbled several times across the ground before sitting up in a daze, staring blankly at her mother's retreating figure without so much as a backward glance.

Didn't Mom say she loved Xiaoxue the most?

Mom, why?!

Lin Qingxue, already out of the kitchen, couldn't care less about any of that now. Child? What child? Not important.

She hurried to the broken sword and stared at it closely.

The cyan glow on the blade was indeed different from before—it pulsed steadily, bright then dim, like someone who had come back from the dead.

"It's him... it's really him..."

She reached out and gently touched the blade. After receiving an affirmative response, she could no longer hold back her tears. Clutching the sword, she knelt on the ground and wailed.

"I knew it... I knew you wouldn't die."

"Boo hoo... you heartless man..."

"Mommy?"

Ye Xiaoxue sat sprawled on the ground, utterly confused.

Wait—she hadn't even cried yet, and her mom was already in tears!

She was the one who got knocked to the floor, wasn't she?!

Just as she was wondering whether she should start crying herself, a cheerful voice came from behind her: "Oh? Why's our little Xiaoxue sitting on the ground?"

Xiaoxue turned around.

There was an old man in a white robe crouching behind her, smiling at her with kind eyes.

"Great-Grandpa!"

Seeing the old man, Xiaoxue's face lit up with joy.

She threw herself into his arms, and once she had her safe haven, immediately began to tattle: "Great-Grandpa! Mommy bumped into me! She knocked Xiaoxue flying! And then she ran off to hug Uncle Sword and cry, leaving Xiaoxue all alone!"

As she spoke, she squeezed out two teardrops from the corner of her eyes.

"Hahaha!"

The old man laughed heartily, cradling the little girl and gently patting her head as he gazed at Lin Qingxue sobbing over the sword in the distance. Softly, he said, "Let your mother cry for a while. She's been waiting for this day for far too long."

"Her tears have almost run dry."

"Huh?"

Ye Xiaoxue tilted her head, blinking in confusion. After a while, she asked in a small voice, "But why is Mommy crying?"

"Because she's happy, and so the tears fall."

The old man said calmly.

The old and the young sat together on the green stone in front of the courtyard, watching Lin Qingxue laugh and cry in turn as she held the broken sword.

Not long after, another visitor arrived at the hollow.

The newcomer wore a blue robe, with long hair cascading like a waterfall and a hint of cold aloofness between her brows. At the sight of Lin Qingxue weeping over the broken sword, she paused mid-step, her pupils trembling slightly.

He... is he truly still alive?

Zhao Zhixia froze for an instant, then suppressed the turmoil in her heart. She glanced over with cold disdain: "Is a heartless man coming back to life really worth all this fuss?"

If anyone in this world was the biggest fool, it had to be her.

Not only had she been tricked in love, but she'd also had to look after her rival, her rival's child, a sect, and an entire household...

Who had suffered more than she had?

Zhao Zhixia had never shown Lin Qingxue or Ye Xiaoxue any kindness, because it was this very woman who had taken advantage of the situation in the Warcraft Mountains and stolen the man who should have been hers.

And that Ye Xiaosu!

The only reason they were all still staying at the Zhao estate was because she was feeling generous!

"Miss Zhao."

The old man, cradling Ye Xiaoxue, looked at Zhao Zhixia with a smile and spoke softly: "I wonder, why is it that you seem to hold such a grudge against my granddaughter? Would you care to enlighten me?"

Zhao Zhixia turned to look at Lin Heming.

She held deep respect for this old man who had once shown the promise of becoming an immortal, even though he now appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary mortal.

But on this matter, she had her pride.

"What kind of face should I show a homewrecker?" Zhao Zhixia shot back without hesitation. As soon as the words left her mouth, she seemed to realize she'd misspoken.

But once words were spoken, they could not be taken back.

Fortunately, the old man didn't seem angered. He simply kept his gentle smile.

"Miss Zhao, what makes you say that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Since the matter was already out in the open, Zhao Zhixia decided to say everything: "I knew that heartless man first. We were together for fifteen years of companionship. It was me who came first. And yet you all chose to stage an intervention right in the middle of it all."

"I am the First Miss Zhao, and I'm being asked to share my husband with other women. How could I ever tolerate that?"

The old man listened and nodded with evident approval.

"Even an ordinary woman would find it hard to forgive a fickle, ungrateful man and share him with others—let alone the First Miss Zhao, a woman favored by heaven."

Hearing this, Zhao Zhixia's expression eased slightly.

But then Lin Heming changed his tone.

"However, Miss Zhao speaks of my granddaughter 'cutting in'—I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"As I recall, when Qingxue returned from the Warcraft Mountains, she had no romantic entanglements with Ye Shu, nor had he ever taken any liberties with her. It may well be that she had already lost her heart to him back then."

"But, Miss Zhao."

The old man said plainly, "I must state a fact: in the Warcraft Mountains, it was Ye Shu who actively allowed my granddaughter to leave."

"No one has ever done anything to wrong you."

"I..."

For a moment, Zhao Zhixia had no reply.

"As for when my granddaughter became his dao companion... Miss Zhao, where were you then?"

The old man asked with perfect calm.

"I had already..." Zhao Zhixia instinctively wanted to say something—of course, upon learning that Ye Shu would one day have many beloved companions, she couldn't swallow that bitterness, confronting him in the room, even going so far as to remove the bracelet she had worn for fifteen years.

She touched the wooden bracelet on her wrist and fell silent.

She suddenly thought of Ye Xiaosu. That very day, that fellow had already shared pleasures with the little maid—was it to deliberately provoke her?

But by then, she had already taken off the bracelet...

Seeing Zhao Zhixia so lost in doubt and anxiety, Lin Heming let out a soft sigh. "Miss Zhao..."

"The one who let go first was always you."