I found myself in Qing Chen’s embrace, unable to see anything clearly. Yet, despite the confusion, I could feel every inch of his body holding me close, as though he was engraving his very existence into mine.
“When you saved me with your ginseng essence that day,” he murmured, “you may not have realized it, but your spirit carried me through all those years. You stayed with me through the changes, through all that time, and even now you remain a part of me. Without you, I would never have survived until now.”
I couldn’t respond. His words stirred something deep within me—a mixture of regret, gratitude, and something more I couldn’t yet name. My very breath trembled with the weight of it all.
He whispered in a low voice, “You’ve given too much…” His voice grew quieter until it disappeared entirely, as though blown away by the wind. When I looked again, Qing Chen’s figure began to fade. All I could see was the faint silhouette of him standing tall amidst the flashes of light in the ruins of the Immortal Sect of Stone.
I stared into the void where he had been, my heart heavy. The storm continued to rage around me, thunder rolling through the skies. In the distance, lightning struck, illuminating the ruins as though showcasing the last remnants of his existence.
A cry echoed, and the dazzling brilliance dissipated into the heavens, fading into infinity. When the light faded, there was nothing left—no trace of Qing Chen, no sign of the Stone Immortal Sect.
In the end, I couldn’t even see Qing Chen’s face, nor did I have the chance to hear his final words.
I knew that he had acted for my sake. Even before, he had shielded me at his own peril.
He had carried the poison of the Stone Immortal Sect’s ginseng for years, all to extract the core’s power for me. It was for this reason that he stepped into the sect’s trap, walking into the scheme to save me. In hindsight, it seemed so clear, yet I never pieced it together before.
Qing Chen’s sacrifice was absolute. He gave his life to mine, pouring his own essence into me so that I could live. He held the burden of extending my fragile existence, ensuring I wouldn’t succumb.
After he collapsed at the gates of the sect, I lingered in that small village for three months, watching over his recovery. It wasn’t until four months later that he began to stabilize. By then, his connection to the sect had been severed, and the toxins gradually waned.
Yet, Qing Chen never once spoke a word about his motives or his sacrifices.
I sat in the wilderness, listening to the howling mountain wind. I stared at the landscape, now devoid of the familiar people and faces. The Stone Immortal Sect and its master—those ties were severed, leaving behind only an empty void.
When I returned to the sect, I saw no summons or reprimands from the elders. They hadn’t called for me, nor had I any chance to explain myself.
Only later, as silence deepened, did I ask: “What brought you all back here?”
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