The freak that had crawled out of the graveyard was Black Robe.
Her methods truly were extraordinary. She had managed to deceive everyone.
Yes, this graveyard was not an altar used to communicate with the Sacred Light Continent, but a method to divert the Demon Lord's attention.
But this graveyard truly was an altar.
Those nobles that had been used as sacrifices had not been offered to the Sacred Light Continent, but to the abyss, to help her resurrect.
This evil method was the greatest secret that had allowed her to live for so many years and be so difficult to kill or capture.
In the past several hundred years, she had already done this twice.
When she had established the spatial path to the Sacred Light Continent, she had not forgotten to arrange her escape route.
Thus, when Chen Changsheng broke into the Divine and Su Li's sword came from the heavens, she had truly been disappointed and pained, but it was not enough to make her despair.
As long as she was still alive, there was a chance to stage a comeback.
At that time, she had already prepared herself to be killed by the human experts and only needed to be resurrected through the sacrificial altar.
Who could have expected that Wang Zhice was not planning to kill her, only to imprison her in Sangharama Temple, even willing to fall out with the human experts?
This matter was truly rather ironic.
Black Robe was not moved, only worried.
The Demon Lord sensed her emotions, so he thought of a way to help Liu Qing kill her.
In name, he wanted to live and die with her, but in reality, he did not.
Even though the Demon Lord did not know what Black Robe wanted to do at the time.
It could only be said that the Demon Lord truly loved her.
… …
… …
The winds howled and the snow rustled.
Her gaze fell on the snow and she saw the small amount of golden blood left in the snow.
This was all the blood of the Demon Commander.
The Demon Commander was her most trusted companion.
The body she was currently using had been personally chosen by the Demon Commander and placed into this grave.
Black Robe knew what the Demon Commander had encountered afterward.
She was deeply sorry for this.
Even in the end, the Demon Commander did not know that she had deceived her. She wanted to exterminate the Demon race as well.
Black Robe squatted down, dipped a hand in the discolored golden blood, brought it to her nose, sniffed it, and then kissed it.
She stood up and walked up the slope.
She had remained in the grave for many days, only daring to emerge when she was sure that the human army had relaxed its guard.
In the past few days, she had eaten nothing but snow water and had to endure the torment of the bitter cold, so she was very weak now.
Most importantly, she needed to cultivate again. She needed dozens of days to have the ability to protect herself. As for recovering to her peak, it would probably take dozens of years.
She slowly walked to the top of the snowy slope and looked at the snowy plain in the distance. A smile appeared on her slightly rotten lips.
Thinking of the cold and hunger she had endured these days, she felt that she was really a great avenger.
In the snowfield, she had prepared many hiding places and food. As long as they could reach those places, they would be temporarily safe.
Once she recovered her strength, she would return to Xuelao City. No, she would return directly to her long-awaited homeland in the south.
She had already decided what she would do when the time came. The humans who had utterly defeated the demons would assuredly sink into internal strife. Whether it was between the north and the south, between the Imperial Court and the Li Palace, between the humans and the demi-humans, or even between those two martial brothers, new conflicts would arise.
This was an inevitability of history, and it was also a weapon that she would use to her advantage.
Vengeance would continue.
Black Robe turned her head to Xuelao City and faintly sighed.
This was how stories were usually written. They would have an open ending, waiting for a new chapter to appear many years later.
But today's story was different.
Black Robe prepared to walk down the slope and disappear into the vast snowy plain.
At this moment, a patch of snow rose up and spread out in all directions.
An extremely large demon stood up from the snow, its shadow falling on Black Robe's face.
Black Robe only needed a glance to determine that this was a member of the massive Gruel clan.
The problem was that no matter how she looked at it, this demon was already dead, a corpse. It was only because of the recent cold that it had not rotted, making it seem like a zombie.
How could a zombie stand up from beneath the graveyard and then lunge at her?
Black Robe's pupils constricted as she watched the approaching corpse. Just what sort of ghost is this?
In the past, Black Robe only needed to wave her sleeve, or even glance, to turn this corpse into powder.
But now, she had lost all her cultivation and was extremely weak. She simply did not have this ability and could not even dodge.
Boom! The towering demon corpse pressed down on Black Robe's body, pressing her into the snowy ground.
Whether by coincidence or design, there was a hard rock in the snow that happened to press against her neck.
There was a light crack.
Black Robe's neck snapped. Blood slowly flowed out, gradually dyeing the snow red.
Her eyes were wide open as she stared at the gloomy sky, brimming with anger, despair, and a tinge of confusion.
At this moment, she could not even blow away the snowflakes that were about to fall into her eyes, much less push away that heavy demon corpse.
She could only helplessly wait for death to come.
After a while, the heavy demon corpse flipped to the side.
Accompanied by a tearing sound, a crack appeared on the chest and abdomen of the corpse, and a person slowly crawled out from inside.
This person was dressed in very thin clothes and his body was covered in blood and dirt. He was extremely thin, his face pale, and he exuded a foul stench.
Perhaps because he had used up the last of his strength, the person heavily gasped for breath as he lay motionless on the snow, right next to Black Robe.
With some difficulty, Black Robe turned her head and asked, "Who are you?"
The person's voice was very soft and hoarse, as it had been many days since he had drunk water.
"I am Zhexiu."
Black Robe knew who Zhexiu was and said nothing.
A cold wind howled over the snowy slope. Cavalry rode by in the distance, but no one noticed that two people were quietly lying side by side at the top of the slope.
If someone were to look down from the sky, they would perhaps find this scene rather beautiful, that they were lovers who had committed suicide for love.
Regretfully, this was not the truth.
After some time, Black Robe gave a faint sigh and asked, "How did you know?"
She was naturally asking how Zhexiu had guessed that she would borrow the corpse in the graveyard to revive.
Zhexiu replied, "I don't know what you want to do, but when I came to this graveyard, I just happened to see you here."
At the time, the human army was on the verge of breaking through Xuelao City. At such a tense moment, the injured Black Robe was still in the mood to come to this graveyard, which meant that this graveyard was very important to her.
Black Robe asked, "So you were waiting here for me to return?"
Zhexiu replied, "Yes."
Black Robe asked, "Could it be that you never thought that your theory might be wrong?"
On that night in the Demon Hall, she had been killed by Liu Qing and her soul had borrowed the power of the sacrificial altar to escape, but she had not been in a hurry to leave. Instead, she had cautiously and carefully hidden herself in the graveyard for several dozen days.
She could not think of anyone who could endure more than her.
Moreover, there was no reason for Zhexiu to wait in the graveyard for so many days for a theory.
Zhexiu replied, "I'm not needed anywhere else. I'm suited for picking up the loose ends and making up for the deficiencies."
Black Robe asked, "What if I never appeared? Would you have waited forever? Until you finally became a real zombie? "
Zhexiu replied, "I wouldn't. Once I'm sure that you won't return, I will naturally leave."
Black Robe asked, "How can you be sure?"
Zhexiu replied, "When hunting, the most important thing is not experience, but intuition."
Black Robe asked, "And if your intuition is wrong?"
Zhexiu replied, "Not every hunt will guarantee that I'll be able to catch prey. Next time will be fine."
Black Robe thought it over, then said, "That's reasonable."
… …
… …
The news of Zhexiu's reappearance quickly spread to the capital, and with it came an even more secretive piece of news.
Only when he read the contents of the letter did Chen Changsheng realize that Black Robe had not died, but had died at Zhexiu's hands. This matter was not made public, because Zhexiu had clearly stated in the letter that he did not need this sort of honor. For the sake of all aspects, it was best to treat this episode as if it had never happened.
Thus, Liu Qing still believed that Black Robe had died to his sword and felt that he no longer had any career to pursue. After confirming that the Imperial Court and the Li Palace did not need him to inquire about Cao Yunping, he calmly ended his career as an assassin under the witness of Xu Yourong and An Lin, beginning his later years.
Chen Changsheng went to the alley of the Northern Military Department and met with Prince Chen Liu.
At this point, Prince Chen Liu naturally had no further need to conceal anything. His calmness was tinged with a tinge of arrogance, without the slightest awareness of being a prisoner. As he gazed at the somewhat unfamiliar face of this once-familiar friend, Chen Changsheng finally understood why Tang Thirty-Six had never liked him.
Prince Chen Liu was an extremely cool-headed and clear-headed person. He lived very clearly, knowing just what he wanted to pursue with his life. As a result, his desires appeared very open and aboveboard, and could also be understood as naked. In the end, what appeared was tranquility, and this was the kind of hypocrisy that Tang Thirty-Six loathed the most.
Prince Chen Liu looked into Chen Changsheng's eyes and said, "In another history, perhaps I won in the end."
Chen Changsheng replied, "Perhaps, because I was not in that history."
… …
… …
Four years ago, a crabapple tree was replanted in that small courtyard in the alley of the Northern Military Department.
Two years ago, the restoration of the Mausoleum of Books was formally completed. The river embankments and bluestone paths that had been destroyed in the war ten-some years ago and the conflict ten years ago had all been repaired. Under the careful work of skilled craftsmen, they did not give off a particularly new feeling, but rather seemed as if they had been repaired.
As he gazed at the green forest, Wang Po thought of Xun Mei.
He walked onto the Divine Path, and no one stopped him.
The pavilion had already collapsed, but it had not been repaired. Han Qing was already dead, so there were no more mausoleum guardians.
He walked to the peak and gazed at the wordless Heavenly Tome Monolith in silence for a very long time.
He turned around and gazed down at the capital, his gaze ultimately resting on the Imperial Palace.
It was a cool autumn day.
He turned and left.
He never returned to the capital again.
… …
… …
Chen Changsheng went to the Imperial Palace and told Yuren of Wang Po's departure.
Yuren's expression did not change, but Divine General He Ming and the other ministers were clearly much more relaxed.
After everyone had withdrawn, Yuren gave his own assessment of this matter, or perhaps Wang Po himself.
"His heart cherishes the common people, a true scholar of the state."
Chen Changsheng's mood was rather heavy. Wang Po's departure had made him recall Shang Xingzhou's life.
"Master only wanted to do one thing in his life. If he were still alive, he would definitely be very happy, but perhaps … he would also be very empty."
"Perhaps."
Yuren did not finish speaking. Looking at the paper on the table, he shook his head and said, "The brush isn't right. Write it one hundred times."
The young Daoist boy, who had always been very resistant to the calligraphy lessons, looked pitifully at Chen Changsheng and called out, "Senior Brother …"
In Xining Village's old temple, if Yuren and Chen Changsheng made a mistake in memorizing, they would assuredly be punished.
Chen Changsheng had seen this sort of sight far too many times. He rubbed the young Daoist boy's head and smiled. "He is Eldest Brother, so I also have to listen to him."
Yuren said, "Thus, to leave at a suitable time is an extremely beautiful thing."
This was a reply to Chen Changsheng's question.
Because it was rather sudden, Chen Changsheng froze for a moment before replying.
"Yes."
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