Chapter Eight: Death, the Only Hardship Throughout the Ages

Wu Yue opened the storage cabin, took one last look at the girl he had knocked unconscious, and locked the door behind him. Step by step, he walked up to the deck—this was a journey toward death. Yet at this moment, his mind was filled only with the image of Liu Anxin. When had he fallen for her? Was it her awkward acts of care? Or the way she boldly declared her affection? Wu Yue pondered, but could not find an answer. Love was simply love.

When you wake, remember to weep your heart out, then live well. The final image in his mind was of this stubborn girl, blocking his way, urging him to slip away quietly. How could I ever leave?

What he regretted most was not being able to take her to see the peach blossoms on Taoming Island. She once told him that the peninsula’s peach blossoms made the whole island fragrant; it must be a beautiful sight. She had said, “If only I’d met you earlier, much earlier, perhaps in another life…” How wonderful that would have been.

“I know. That Wu Yue was hidden by Boss Liu, and he plans to make him his son-in-law, right there at—”

Bang! Bang!

Hong Tao, who had been speaking, exploded into a mist of blood before he could finish.

Wu Yue stepped onto the deck, a pistol in his hand, faint smoke still curling from its barrel. He recognized the man—one who had often provoked him.

Those two shots abruptly silenced the crowd’s indignation. Wu Yue cast a cold gaze at the people who had been relentlessly blaming him; under his eyes, their voices dwindled to nothing.

At Wu Yue’s arrival, Chen Jishan made no dramatic move. With a light step, he appeared before Wu Yue.

Wu Yue looked at Chen Jishan, his fated adversary. Before he had even glimpsed this world, he had been condemned to an enmity as deep as blood. The man wore a white robe—his features plain, yet with an inexplicable aura. He truly looked like a protagonist, Wu Yue thought.

Chen Jishan studied Wu Yue in return—a handsome young man, whose eyes blazed with resentment, anger, and a hint of hatred. You can only blame your unfortunate birth.

“Do you know, my third brother Bai Yuko lost his life because of you? Today, you will die.” Chen Jishan’s voice was soft but dripped with murderous intent.

“So he really couldn’t resist trying those drugs? The more you know, the more curious you become. Curiosity has always been a fatal habit…”

He shattered a fragment of Yue Ziqing’s soul crystal and had the cat swallow it. No matter how Bai Yuko tried to track it, he would be led to the cat in the end.

There, he would also find the treasure within the cat, a mysterious box that could not be stored in a spatial pouch, and an unknown packet beside it… It was a plan with a terrifying persuasiveness.

On the surface, it seemed crude, but its manipulation of human nature was chilling. The plan had succeeded. What he had not expected was the terrifying potency of the drug.

“See how clever I am! Yet all I wanted was to live—a simple, ordinary life. Is that so difficult?” Scenes flashed rapidly through his mind.

A richly decorated room—a child of eleven or twelve holding a knife, another slightly older child lying on the floor. A middle-aged man burst in, striking the standing child across the face, never noticing the faint, triumphant smile on the lips of the one on the floor…

A hospital ward—a slightly older child, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, held a shard of porcelain cup to a woman in her twenties, blood dripping steadily from the child’s hand. The child’s face was cold, the woman screamed with all her might, but her eyes showed no fear. Then came the sound of approaching footsteps…

A medical record—the diagnosis at the bottom: severe schizophrenia…

And then endless loneliness, the agony of isolation from the world. How many years? How many years!

Memories pressed in. Wu Yue threw his head back and roared to the sky, “Is it a mistake for me to live? I only want—only ever wanted—to live well!”

Beep. Mental threshold reached. Activating God’s Perspective. Activating…

The wariness of kin, the distance of friends, the fear of strangers. Why? Why does my life bring so much pain? Everyone who means well for me meets a tragic end.

In his past life, that gentle woman took a bullet for him—yet he became a murderer. In this life, it was Yue Jiujue’s resolute eyes and soft exhortation: Live well, just live well…

God’s Perspective activated. Fragment of the World detected. Locking target, target cultivation: Late Stage Mortal Shedding.

Beep. Death mission issued!

Host receives Temporary Full Mastery of Mortal Shedding. Kill Chen Jishan, acquire the Fragment of the World.

Failure means erasure!

Thunder crashed—on the sea, the weather shifts in an instant. Where moments ago the sky was clear, now dark clouds gathered, and rain fell in torrents.

Suddenly, a water dragon surged toward Wu Yue—a disciple of the Crystal Palace.

“Senior, I am willing to kill this man for you!” The disciple called anxiously, hoping to curry favor with Chen Jishan, praying to be spared. If Chen Jishan was bloodthirsty, this might grant him a sliver of hope; if not, he would die all the same. If it was not the best move, he might at least avoid provoking Chen Jishan’s wrath.

As for Wu Yue’s life, he cared nothing—a mere late-stage channeler.

The water dragon crashed forward, but the late-stage channeler simply pointed a finger in the air. The dragon, as if suddenly possessed of sentience, circled Wu Yue, then shot back even faster.

The disciple died a death beyond death. The remaining Crystal Palace disciples suppressed their terror, slowly retreating, desperate to leave but too afraid to do so.

Wu Yue’s aura climbed ever higher as he slowly opened his eyes. In his gaze, the world was transformed—spiritual energy of every color swirling into myriad shapes, with faint threads weaving through them all.

“You still cannot break through that barrier,” Chen Jishan said, with a trace of regret. “So, today, you will die.”

“Is that so?” Wu Yue sneered. The once-unfathomable Chen Jishan now stood revealed before him.

Chen Jishan’s expression turned strange. “Your cultivation now surpasses mine; killing you would not be easy. Still, I must thank you.” As he spoke, a fragment appeared in his palm.

“Something from the box?”

“You don’t know?” Chen Jishan’s face became feverish. “This fragment contains a law. With it, I can wield power beyond Mortal Shedding. For example—”

A rift appeared out of thin air, not far from Wu Yue and Chen Jishan. Even with the power of Mortal Shedding, Wu Yue felt pain just standing nearby, as if countless fine blades were slicing into him. Chen Jishan, on the other hand, looked almost mad with excitement as he stared at the rift.

But now, Wu Yue’s face showed a joy—a strange, inappropriate joy for a man about to die. Ignoring the question of Chen Jishan’s sanity, and seeing the rift narrowing, Wu Yue made a desperate decision. He lunged forward, seized Chen Jishan, and hurled them both into the rift!

Since ancient times, it has ever been thus—death is hard. My greatest hatred is not being able to return to Earth and take my revenge! My deepest regret, not spending my days and nights with you! And above all, my greatest wish is to kill you, Chen Jishan—not for past grudges, but because you thwarted my heart’s desire.

Those on the deck could not fathom what had happened. All they saw was a crack appear in midair, and the two men at the bow vanish.

A strange silence fell over the deck, broken only by a sudden voice.

“Father, where is Wu Yue?”

No one answered.

Liu Anxin stared blankly ahead, her gaze unfocused.

Love begins without warning.

Yet once it takes root, it runs deep.

Love arrives suddenly—and departure even more so.

Raindrops struck the deck, blossoming into little flowers of water.