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One had a withered face, while the other was still in the prime of his life.
Only then did Lu Chen truly grasp the vast gulf between the lifespan of ordinary humans and cultivators.
He began a desperate search for anything that could extend Nantian Wan'er's life, but nothing worked.
As Nantian Wan'er neared death, Lu Chen held her tightly in his arms. He neither cried nor laughed. Instead, he simply held on to her with all his strength.
He didn't understand what was happening to him. His heart ached, yet no tears would come. It even felt as if all of this had nothing to do with him.
"Lu-gege… do you think we'll still get to see the next chapter of the story?"
Without thinking, he replied, "We will. He's almost ready to write it."
Even as he said it, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.
Nantian Wan'er lay quietly in his arms, with her eyes slowly closing. Her voice had grown weak and frail. "Lu-gege… have you ever heard of A Dream of Nanke, Zhuangzi's Butterfly Dream, or Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai?"[1]
"Of course. Those are the storyteller's most beloved tales. You always loved listening to them. Just rest for now. Once you're feeling better,...
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