The room was very quiet.
It was so quiet that one could hear the low hum of ships gliding past outside the window and the slight crackle of the candle flame within its shade.
One could hear his own breathing and hers, intertwined like two testing undercurrents.
Should he just end it all here?
Jiang Xun looked at her, seeing the surging emotions in her eyes that were almost overflowing, and suddenly wondered if he could truly harden his heart.
What should he say?
Say, "I am not the person you think I am"?
Say, "I'm just a player, and you're just a piece of data"?
Or say, "For this past thousand years, I didn't exist at all"?
It was too absurd.
And too cruel.
In the end, he chose a more tactful explanation.
"The reason I didn't go looking for you..." he began, his voice a bit raspy, "was because I didn't want to trouble you."
Yan Qingning's eyelashes trembled slightly.
"You are now a great Cultivator of the Void Penetration Realm," Jiang Xun continued, his tone like he was stating a fact.
"You are the pillar of the Xuanxiao Immortal Sect, a Sword Immortal revered by ten thousand people. And me?"
He spread his hands, looked down at his coarse cloth clothes, and smiled.
"A small figure in the Qi Refining realm, who can't even fly a sword yet. What face do I have to appear before you?"
His words were reasonable, even carrying a hint of self-deprecating frankness.
"You and I are no longer in the same world."
But Yan Qingning's eyes grew darker bit by bit.
"In your heart," she asked softly, "am I that kind of person?"
Jiang Xun remained silent.
He wanted to say no, to say she was wonderful, but when the words reached his lips, they turned into a sharper blade.
"You said it before." He looked up, staring directly at her. "Your future husband must be someone who can surpass you."
Yan Qingning's body swayed slightly.
A past she didn't want to recall... was like being dragged from a dusty corner deep within her memory.
A thousand years ago... what kind of era was that?
The Demonic Path was rampant, and blood stained the mountains and rivers.
To counter them, the Righteous Path Sects had no choice but to Cultivate 'Soldier-Humans'.
A group of cold weapons who knew only how to kill.
She was one of them.
There was no childhood in her memory, no playing.
Only swinging her sword day after day, fighting and killing year after year.
To squeeze out every bit of potential to the limit.
The Cultivation Technique she practiced was modified from a Demonic Technique, and she entered arenas where fellow disciples slaughtered each other.
A Senior Brother who was practicing swordplay side-by-side with her today might have to beg for his life under her blade tomorrow.
Thirty thousand Soldier-Humans.
In the end, only eighteen survived.
She remembered always being wound very tight, like a string pulled to its limit.
She longed for someone to pat her shoulder and say, "Enough, you can rest now."
She longed for someone strong enough to let her put down her sword, even for a moment.
Then he appeared.
Dao Xun.
Like an unreasonable beam of light, he forced his way into her black-and-white world.
He pestered her, talking about the markets at the foot of the mountain, the fish in the river, the peach blossoms in spring, and the snow in winter.
Things she had never seen, and never even thought of seeing.
He said, "You actually look very beautiful when you smile."
"I don't need to be beautiful, I need to become strong."
He asked, "If I were to marry you, how strong would I need to be?"
"At least... stronger than me."
Looking back now, it was just a casual remark.
But he took it seriously.
He began to Cultivate like a madman, recklessly charging into Secret Realms, and even eventually... falling into the Demonic Path.
So his death was because of her.
This thought was like a poisonous thorn that had been stuck in her heart for a thousand years; it had long since taken root and sprouted, growing into brambles that wrapped around her entire being, leaving her bloodied inside and out.
But if Jiang Xun knew these thoughts, he would only shout to the heavens that it was all to grind dungeons and farm Materials!
There was truly no need to feel sad about it!
"I don't need you to surpass me anymore."
Yan Qingning spoke, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
She took a step forward, very close to him, close enough for Jiang Xun to see a hint of moisture clinging to her eyelashes.
"I only need you to be with me."
A cold fragrance rushed into Jiang Xun's nose.
Yan Qingning continued:
"As long as you are by my side, it's enough."
Jiang Xun's heart suddenly constricted.
Too close.
So close he could almost feel the warm air she exhaled as she spoke, and see the affection in her eyes so thick it threatened to swallow him whole.
Staying by the side of a Void Penetration Realm powerhouse, eating the best resources, using the best Cultivation Techniques, and receiving the best protection—this was essentially top-tier'soft rice' falling from the sky.
He only needed to say one word.
Okay.
But he opened his mouth, and that word got stuck in his throat, unable to be uttered no matter what.
He was not Dao Xun.
He hadn't experienced those life-and-death moments together, hadn't given those promises; everything was just the result of careful calculation.
He was just an ordinary person who had accidentally entered this world, a passerby who wanted to see this land properly.
"I want to walk my own path," he finally said.
"I can walk with you," Yan Qingning immediately replied, as if she had already prepared the answer.
Jiang Xun shook his head.
"The path I want to walk," he looked at her, word by word, as clear as if he were carving an epitaph, "does not have you in it."
The moment the words fell, he saw the color drain from Yan Qingning's face.
It wasn't just pale; it was a more complete, almost transparent white.
Like a jade statue that had suddenly been struck with a crack.
Then, a drop of water rolled down from her eye without warning.
It hit her collarbone, splashing into a tiny wet mark.
Yan Qingning seemed to have been burned, raising her hand blankly to touch the moisture.
Her fingertips were stained with water; she looked down at it for a long time, as if she didn't recognize what it was.
"The last time I cried..." she murmured, "was when Senior Brother told me you were dead."
She raised her eyes; her eyes were red, but she didn't break down, just silently looking at him.
"Do you still like me?"
Jiang Xun knew this was the last chance.
To sever the past, sever the ill-fated relationship, and sever the entanglement of these thousand years.
He took a deep breath, making his voice as steady and firm as possible.
"I don't like you anymore."
Five words.
Like ice picks, they stabbed into her heart.
Yan Qingning didn't cry out, didn't question, and didn't even move.
She just stood there, but her tears wouldn't stop flowing, line after line sliding down her cheeks, gathering at her chin, and dripping onto the floor.
Anyone who saw this scene would have their heart soften.
At this moment, Yan Qingning was like a broken orchid.
Jiang Xun looked away.
He knew he couldn't be soft-hearted.
He knew this body owed more than just this one debt; he knew there were four other "old friends" like her waiting.
If he was soft-hearted now, it would be eternal damnation later.
If he could sever it, he had to, or else he'd be caught in a 'yandere' disaster.
He turned and walked toward the door.
His steps were steady, without hesitation.
He remembered that there should be a Flying Magic Treasure in his Storage Ring; it should be enough to leave this ship.
From now on, the mountains would be high and the roads long; they would never meet again.
The moment his hand touched the door, he even felt a sigh of relief in his heart.
It was over.
After making things clear, he finally didn't have to be on edge anymore.
Then, he heard a very soft sound from behind him:
"Bind."
A golden rope lunged out from the Void Realm without warning, like a spirit snake, instantly wrapping around Jiang Xun's wrists, waist, and ankles.
The rope tightened, golden light flowing, and his entire body was firmly bound, unable to move.
Jiang Xun froze in place.
He slowly turned his head.
Yan Qingning was still standing where she was, the tear marks on her face not yet dry, but her gaze had changed.
It was no longer that broken fragility from before, but a kind of almost stubborn, icy coldness.
She looked at him and spoke softly, her voice raspy:
"I waited for you for a thousand years."
"Not to wait for you to say... that you don't like me."
The rope tightened another notch.