Ningyan....
Lan Meishan repeated the name endlessly within his mind.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Yet outwardly, he remained perfectly composed, seated beneath the swaying lantern light with the same impassive expression he had worn for centuries.
Only he knew that his heart was screaming.
Ningyan did not remember him. Not a single trace. Not a single fragment. And worse, the beast sitting before him was drowning in wickedness.
The demonic aura leaking from Ningyan's body felt almost alive, slithering around him like an invisible beast. There was no guilt within him. No remorse. No hesitation.
Exactly as Ningyan himself had admitted.
Yet it was still him.
The way he smiled.
The way those violet eyes brightened whenever something interested him.
The way he let his long white hair fall freely without bothering to tie it back.
Even the way he ate had not changed.
Everything familiar remained.
Only everything important seemed lost.
