In a realm where the line between reality and illusion blurred, life unfolded like a series of poignant scenes, weaving together a tapestry of joy and sorrow that mirrored the past. Fang Yuzhu, clad in women's trousers, high heels, and a T-shirt, her black hair cascading naturally, embodied a modern goddess. Her deep, ancient eyes seemed to gaze into bygone eras, silent as a maple leaf greeting the autumn breeze, radiantly tranquil yet tinged with a hint of solitary chill. 0

Wang Xuan recognized her own narrative; even a peerless true immortal had moments of vulnerability, harboring unshed sorrows from the past.0

"Did I lose my composure?" Fang Yuzhu asked, her gaze as calm and clear as a still pond.0

"No, you were very focused, so I did not wish to disturb you," Wang Xuan responded, shaking his head.0

Meanwhile, in another hall, Zhang Daoling glanced at Ming Xue, musing, "You're overthinking it. Who is Fang Yuzhu? She alone has slain ageless ancient cultivators, single-handedly ending an era of splendor. Such a person wouldn't be easily swayed by external influences. Now, she genuinely seeks to blend into the mundane...0