"Are you serious?"
Zheng Xiu glanced back at Xie Luohe.
"You think I'm not?"
Xie Luohe retorted, her fingers tracing the mural. "Zhu was a figure from nearly a thousand years ago," she said with a smile.
Zheng Xiu said, "Weren't you the one who said you thought Zhu was still alive?"
Xie Luohe pointed to the "coffin" in the last mural and gave a faint smile. "But my words alone are no proof."
Zheng Xiu fell into deep thought.
'If…'
'If Zhu, as a Mystic, possessed the ability of Immortality and had been hiding in the cracks of history, even living into the era two hundred years later that I'm from, then his true identity could only be that one person.'
'The founder of Ye Weiyang, the Night Lord—the one who emerged two hundred years later because of my unintentional actions in Baili Village.'
Countless threads of clues tangled in Zheng Xiu's mind. He felt he was just one step away from understanding everything.
