The teahouse was suddenly filled with a loud noise, interrupting Xuan Ji's trance.

Someone tugged on his earlobe, and when he turned around, he saw his Majesty's sinister smile. He knew it couldn't be good, so he quickly covered his ears, but he couldn't block out the bastard's mental message: "The scholar finally died, and the lady remarried."

Sheng Lingyuan tidied up the desolate depths of Chiyuan and built an elegant pavilion in the stone forest, resembling a cemetery. The more refined person sat inside the pavilion, embracing the warmth of the firestove while reading a book. The less refined person sat on the roof of the pavilion, munching on sunflower seeds. After finishing an entire field of sunflowers, their tongue didn't even blister.

Accidentally dropping a seed shell into the small stove, they almost set the Emperor's hair on fire. They tried to escape but were caught and had their feathers pulled out, enough to make a whole comforter with...

And most importantly, every time the Vermilion Bird's bones shattered, someone tightly held his hand, enduring the pain with him and accompanying him through the suffering until he woke up again.

Then they rebuilt the burnt-down pavilion all over again.

Sheng Lingyuan dug out Dan Li's "Thousand Demon Bestiary" from Xuan Ji's mind - a version that had not been burned into its current tattered version by the Chiyuan fire, page by page, he filled in the lessons he had slept through in his youth...

As though those things had really happened.

As though that person had really accompanied him for three thousand years.

It was so sweet that it made his liver and gallbladder split - "Sheng Lingyuan!"

With a bang, the illusion was difficult to sustain, and the heavenly demon's breath almost dissipated.

The huge statue on Biquan Mountain collapsed and fell into the rolling magma, and the power of worship from thousands of years ago turned into white smoke and plunged into the raging fire.

All communication devices failed, and the sound waves seemed to freeze in place for a moment.

The whole world was quiet.

Suddenly, the divine bird spread its wings and let out a cry that seemed to travel across the world through the earth's veins and into everyone's ears.

The flames of the fire reached their peak before cooling down, revealing the true form of the bird's fiery red feathers, now visible against the snow-white backdrop, as if they were dyed with the colors of the sunset.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but it didn't strike the ground. Instead, it rolled gently and heavily, shaking everything in its path, before the snow began to fall.

From the Biquan Mountain to the Nanming Valley, the smoke and ash that floated above the Vermilion Bird totem were now stuck to the snow that filled the sky. They patiently covered the dead plants and fell into the boiling magma.

Deep within the magma, Sheng Lingyuan curled up, his demonic energy and blood drained by the raging fire.

He was as still as a jade carving.

Years ago, the sword that he had hidden in his heart had transformed into a metal shell, and although the sword spirit was no longer inside, the sword still protected him seamlessly.

The divine bird flashed and disappeared like an illusion before the people.

Xuan Ji landed beside Sheng Lingyuan, his family emblem on his forehead as red as blood.

He reached out to Sheng Lingyuan in a panic.

The protective shell formed by the Heavenly Demon Sword shattered the moment he touched it, and Xuan Ji caught the person inside.

The body was as cold as if it had just been taken out of a freezer, completely lifeless, just like the remains he had burned in Chiyuan years ago.

Xuan Ji immediately knelt down, his hand trembling as he couldn't hold him properly.

His knees hit the ground heavily, just after he had taken the Chiyuan's power.

The roaring sound of a helicopter echoed over the Biquan Mountain as it arrived, deafening and overwhelming.

"You...you liar." Xuan Ji couldn't hear anything at that moment. "Have you ever been honest? Have you ever told the truth in your damn life, Sheng Lingyuan...Sheng Lingyuan!"

This sweet-tongued bastard was always hiding a knife behind his words. Whenever he spoke kindly, there was always a sinister motive behind it.

If he wasn't trying to take someone's life, he was trying to tear out their heart.

He was a competent demon, and those who believed in him never had a good ending.

At that moment, Sheng Lingyuan suddenly collapsed onto Xuan Ji's shoulder, completely unconscious.

A white chess piece rolled out of his embrace and caught the first tear of the Vermilion Bird. It shattered like it couldn't withstand the heat of the bird's flames.

Xuan Ji stared blankly as the shattered chess piece ignited, scattering sparks that landed on Sheng Lingyuan - causing him to tremble lightly.

The chess piece quickly turned to ash, and one of the sparks grazed Xuan Ji's hand.

He didn't have time to dodge, but the spark, in order to avoid him, jumped in an unnatural arc, defying the Earth's gravity.

In the remnants, there seemed to be the aura of Chiyuan.

Not the current Chiyuan, but the slightly stale scent from the past that permeated the continent that had just ended a long and brutal war. It was mixed with the indelible smell of rust and blood, like a rough and cruel little monument that had been preserved.

The Chiyuan demonic energy in the chess piece had been exhausted and, smashed by the tears of the Vermilion Bird, exploded into a small cluster of fireworks, no longer existing.

Xuan Ji stood there, stunned for a moment, before realizing what had happened.

He trembled as he held onto Sheng Lingyuan's neck. He waited for what seemed like an eternity...

Suddenly, a faint pulse could be felt, like the last drop of water in a dried-up stream, bringing back a glimmer of life to Lingyuan's body.

A helicopter descended from the sky, and the field agents who had witnessed the miraculous rebirth of the divine bird moments ago ran towards them, but kept their distance, forming a circle a hundred meters away.

Xuan Ji stood alone in the field, holding onto Lingyuan, not daring to loosen his grip.

Slowly, his back began to slump, and his wings, which had melted the snow on contact, released a cloud of white steam.

The sight of his silhouette was misty like a dream.