There was dead silence in the tent. The young man looked at the hunting knife on the ground without saying a word, and no emotion could be seen on his face. After a long time, he seemed to recall something from the past, and a faint glimmer of light returned to his eyes.
He held onto the ground and sat up with difficulty. He looked at the Desolate Man father and son and let his usual solemn and sacred expression return to his face. He said solemnly, "So sneak attacks are not that interesting."
It was a very strange sentence, but he said it very seriously and solemnly. His tone was still the same as it had been for the past ten years, calm and gentle, but with an innate arrogance and condescending indifference.
However, he was no longer the beautiful Divine Son of West-Hill, but a withered and filthy wanderer. Therefore, this expression on his face was extremely incongruous and even a little ridiculous.
The Desolate Man father and son thought he was ridiculous, but they did not laugh. The Desolate boy picked up the hunting knife on the ground and walked up to him, wanting to cut off his head like the beasts in the snow mountains.
Seeing the shadow of the hunting knife coming towards him, the noble young man who had fallen to the Wilderness finally felt the shadow of death, just like when he felt the arrow on the snow cliff.
In fact, he was not unfamiliar with this feeling. In the first half of his life, he had seen the fear and confusion of countless prisoners when they were about to die in the Serene Prison. However, at that time, he had never associated this feeling with himself.
The young man from the Central Plains was not afraid of death, at least he thought he was not. However, he really did not want to die in the hands of a Desolate Man boy. This way of dying was too absurd and unbefitting of his identity.
He did not die because the Desolate Man father stopped his son.
The Desolate Man father looked at his son and shook his head. He lectured, "Since we Desolate Men have saved people, there is no reason for us to kill them. Moreover, this young man from the Central Plains is obviously crazy. It is not auspicious to kill a madman."
The Desolate Man boy asked, "Then what should we do? We can't raise a madman. "
The Desolate Man father explained, "Since he wants to kill us, we can't raise him anymore. Throw him out and let him fend for himself. Yama will decide whether he lives or dies. This is the fairest way."
The temperature of the tent was extremely low. The young man was seriously injured and was on the verge of death. Without the warmth of the tent and the bonfire, he would have died in a short while.
The Desolate Man father and son knew this very well. However, even if the Desolate Man had compassion, they would not be stupid enough to overflow. The father carried the young man out of the tent like a chick and threw him far away into a pile of snow.
…
…
That young man was naturally Prince Long Qing.
On the snow cliff in the depths of the Tianqi Mountains, he was shot through the chest by Ning Que's Primordial Thirteen Arrow when he was at the critical juncture of breaking through the Knowing Destiny State. That arrow not only almost killed him on the spot, but also destroyed his cultivation state and confidence. History had already proven that being disturbed by external objects at the critical juncture of breaking through the realm would have serious consequences, such as being devoured by the Qi of Heaven and Earth.
Ning Que's Primordial Thirteen Arrow was definitely not an ordinary external object or Inner Devil. The impact on Prince Long Qing was not as simple as being devoured by the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Because of that arrow, he could no longer cultivate for the rest of his life. In other words, he had turned from a powerful cultivator who could enter the Knowing Destiny State the fastest into an absolute wastrel.
Some people were still alive, but they were already dead. They were even more painful and desperate than death.
That day on the snow cliff, Prince Long Qing was such a person. When the Tao Addict pulled him back from the brink of death, he fell off the snow cliff like a walking corpse and walked towards the north of the Wilderness in a daze.
He went north because the night was longer there. Prince Long Qing felt that the light of Haotian had abandoned him, so he chose to die on the other side of the night. At least this way, he would not stain Haotian's eyes.
It was cold and snowy. He thought that he could become a zombie in the snow at any time. However, he did not know whether it was because of the pure Taoist aura that Ye Hongyu had poured into his body or the effect of the pill from the Zhishou Abbey. He did not fall down. He walked painfully for a few days and then passed out in the mountains.
If nothing else had happened at that time, when the pure Taoist aura in his body was gradually released and the effect of the pill completely disappeared, he would eventually become a corpse in the deep snow in the north of Tianqi Mountain. No one would ever discover his death. It would not be until thousands or tens of thousands of years later when the weather changed again and the snow melted and the frozen corpse was revealed. However, who would remember a person called Prince Long Qing thousands of years ago?
After being rescued by the Desolate father and son, Prince Long Qing was still perplexed, but his desire to die had faded a little. Because no matter who it was, after experiencing a soulless struggle between life and death, they would always have stronger feelings for the human world.
Being able to live made him feel good to the Desolate Man father and son. However, deep in his bones, his hatred for the Devil's Doctrine and contempt for the Desolate Man still existed. The stronger the gratitude in his heart, the more pain and torment he felt. After a long period of silent thinking, he decided to defeat the Desolate Man father and son and then said something that he had never had the chance to say.
"I forgive your sins on behalf of Haotian."
Prince Long Qing, who was in the tent, was in a very chaotic state of mind and logic. That state was between life and death, between light and darkness, between gratitude and hatred, between glorious memories and embarrassing reality. It was precisely because of this that he made such an inexplicable choice.
The fact that he was thrown out of the tent made Prince Long Qing sober up. He clearly remembered many things — he was no longer the West-Hill Divine Son who had plucked peach blossoms in his hands. He was no longer the Prince of Yan Kingdom who had lived a luxurious life since childhood. He was no longer the person who was qualified to be the one who was expected to revive the Yan Kingdom. Instead, he was just a wastrel whose Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi had been destroyed and could no longer cultivate.
He lay in the cold snow, not knowing whether he was dead or alive. Images of the past flashed quickly in his mind. It was unknown whether it was because of these images or the cold, but his body became more and more stiff, his thin and dirty cheeks became paler and paler, and the luster in his eyes became weaker and weaker.
Prince Long Qing, who used to be Prince Long Qing, was now like a poor beggar, silently waiting for his death on the snowfield where few people could be seen. However, fortunately, or extremely unfortunately, Yama, who was in charge of the night and death, seemed to hate the faint smell of light that still remained in this beggar, and refused to give him a sweet kiss.
Prince Long Qing sat until the early morning. His eyelashes moved slightly, and the slender and charming eyelashes fell with the rustling of frost. He indifferently looked at his chest and found that he was actually not dead. He slowly stood up and continued his journey that had been interrupted for some time. He walked toward the far north that was still immersed in the darkness of the night.
Under the interaction of the wind, snow, and cold, the luxurious coat finally could no longer support itself. Threads of it fell behind him, and the bright yellow color had long faded. There was only a close-fitting undergarment left on his body, which was stained with black blood and black soil. It was so dirty that it was hard to tell whether it was blood or soil.
He walked until noon, and the blazing sun shone on his head. However, there was no heat at all, as if it did not exist. He weakly looked up at the sky and squinted with difficulty. Then, he used all his strength to take a step forward. He felt something strange on the sole of his foot. When he looked down, he found that his shoe had been broken, and a sharp piece of ice had pierced deeply into the sole of his foot. However, he could no longer feel the pain.
Prince Long Qing weakly continued to walk with thin clothes, bare feet, and a seriously injured body. He did not know where he was going. He just followed the intuition deep in his heart, aimlessly but never deviated from the direction of the north. The darkness there had always been attracting him before his death, just like the light in the past.
He did not know how long he had walked. Because he was too weak, he walked slowly, so he did not know how many miles he had walked. He did not feel hunger or pain, and those instinctive human desires seemed to gradually fade under the double torture of despair and death. However, he had to continue to walk north. He did not need to eat, but he had to support his body that could fall at any time. Therefore, he broke a branch on the road and used it as a walking stick.
It was difficult for trees to survive in the Wilderness of the Far North. There were no thick branches. The thin branch only supported him for a few thousand feet before it broke. His body fell heavily on the snow, and some gray blood flowed out from the corner of his mouth. He struggled to get up, and his face was still expressionless. He stared blankly at the seemingly endless Wilderness in the north, sighed softly, and then sat down.
He did not know how many days he had walked, and how many miles he had walked, but he still did not walk into death, nor did he walk to the dark north. He felt a little regretful. He quietly looked up at the sky, watching the twilight gradually replaced by night.
He sat in the cold Wilderness for an entire night until the morning arrived. The first ray of sunlight shone on the monotonous snowy plain and shone on his slightly squinted eyes. Because he no longer had eyelashes, his eyelids appeared particularly smooth.
"It's finally dawn." He looked at the first ray of light in the east and murmured in a hoarse voice, "How good it would be if the sky would never be bright again. Why am I so afraid of seeing the sky now?"
The hurried sound of horse hooves came from the south.
Prince Long Qing looked at the east in a daze, completely ignoring the sound coming from behind him.
The sound of horse hooves came closer and closer. There was still a long distance between them. Lu Chenjia jumped down from the back of the Great Snow Horse and rushed to his back. Then, she slowly squatted down and opened her arms to hug his body from behind.
The Great Snow Horse swayed and almost fell on the snowfield. It had been running for thousands of miles non-stop for days and nights. No matter how spirited it was, it was at its weakest.
Lu Chenjia hugged him gently and pressed her face against his. She did not dare to use force, but she also did not want to let go. It was as if she was worried that the man she loved would disappear again if she let go. She walked towards the darkness.
After these days, a smile finally appeared on Prince Long Qing's face. He looked at the faint morning light in the east and gently sniffed the scent coming from the side of his face. He said in a hoarse voice, "Don't you feel that you're hugging a corpse?"
Lu Chenjia lowered her head and said with a smile, "If you were willing to look back at me, you would know that I look terrible now."
…
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