Wang Lin cast his gaze upon the man adorned in violet and gold robes. He discerned the man’s cultivation to be at the Shattered Nirvana stage, but spoke no words. Instead, with a flick of his wrist, he conjured a jade scroll from the void and sent it spiraling towards him.

The man, his face an unreadable mask of serenity, reached out and caught the scroll with practiced ease. His spiritual sense delved within, but a soft gasp escaped his lips as a look of gravity descended upon his features. Despite his lofty cultivation, he could not decipher the scroll’s contents.

Yet, his eyes discerned that the jade itself was no ordinary material. Within it pulsed a trace of celestial heat. Combined with Wang Lin’s esteemed presence, it was clear this scroll held secrets of profound import.

“What is this?” the man inquired, raising his gaze to meet Wang Lin’s.

“The Ancient Saint Emperor of Vermillion Bird, from within the Alliance’s headquarters, unearthed a hidden truth,” Wang Lin said, his voice calm and measured. “Before his return to the Ruined Emptiness, he charged me to deliver this scroll, without fail, to the borders of Kunxu.”

The man nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. His solemn expression deepened. He clasped his hands in a respectful gesture, saying, “I am in your debt.”

With a flick of his right hand, Wang Lin cast forth three Nascent Souls. They landed beside him, their eyes sealed shut, held captive by some unseen force.

“Prior to this, I offered no invitation, my haste driven by the importance of the scroll’s secrets, leading me to forcibly enter the teleportation array,” Wang Lin explained. He summoned another jade scroll from the void, presenting it to the robed man.

This scroll contained a recording, a clear depiction of Wang Lin’s prior encounter with the four guardians who stood watch outside.

The man received the scroll, watched its contents unfold, and maintained his placid countenance. He spoke slowly, saying, “I thank the Saint Emperor for providing discipline. However, while a lesson is acceptable, the death of one of Kunxu’s own is a matter we cannot easily overlook.”

“An accident,” Wang Lin replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

The man fixed Wang Lin with his gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. “This matter is of great consequence. I must request that the Saint Emperor remain in Kunxu for a few days while I deliver this scroll to…”

Before he could complete his sentence, a voice, cold and sharp as glacial ice, echoed through the heavens.

“Let him leave.”

The voice sent a wave of reverence through the gathered cultivators. Even the violet-robed man paused, then bowed his head, acknowledging the command.

Before them, stepping from the ethereal plane, stood Mu Bingmei, her expression a complex tapestry of emotions as she regarded Wang Lin.

At that moment, two streaks of vibrant light descended from the distant sky, landing before Wang Lin. They coalesced into the forms of Zhou Ru and Little Bai. Zhou Ru, seeing Wang Lin, grew visibly excited.

“Uncle! It truly is you!” Zhou Ru’s eyes glistened with tears.

A smile touched Wang Lin’s face as he gazed upon Zhou Ru. He nodded. “Uncle has come to take you away.”

Zhou Ru, now grown, sensed the unusual undercurrent of the scene. Understanding that this was not the time for questions, she stepped to Wang Lin’s side. Her heart ached at the sight of his white hair.

“I have come to take Zhou Ru,” Wang Lin declared, his gaze meeting Mu Bingmei’s. After a moment of silence, he continued, his voice steady, but heavy with unspoken emotion.

Mu Bingmei bit her lip, her voice soft as she addressed the others, “You may all withdraw.” The surrounding cultivators obeyed, vanishing from sight within moments. The violet-robed man cast a knowing glance at Wang Lin before turning to depart.

Soon, only Wang Lin, Zhou Ru, and Mu Bingmei remained.

“Zhou Ru, after you depart, do not neglect your cultivation. Remember your daily meditations and breathing exercises,” Mu Bingmei said, her gaze averted from Wang Lin as she looked at Zhou Ru. “Do you understand?”

Zhou Ru looked from Wang Lin to Mu Bingmei. She understood that her mistress had treated her well over the years, especially when she had rescued her. Without her, she may never have reunited with her uncle.

Saddened by the thought of parting, Zhou Ru nodded, her voice subdued. “Mistress, I understand. I will not neglect my cultivation. Besides, I can always return here.”

A bitter expression crossed Mu Bingmei’s face. Zhou Ru did not understand that this departure was a point of no return. Wang Lin would never allow her to revisit.

“As my apprentice, now that it is time for you to depart, I will give you a gift,” Mu Bingmei said, reaching up to remove a jade hairpin from her hair. She gazed at it with a wistful expression before handing it to Zhou Ru.

“Mistress, this…” Zhou Ru stuttered, taking it instinctively. She remembered her mistress saying that the hairpin was a powerful treasure, passed down from their ancestral master.

“Come, let me put it in your hair,” Mu Bingmei said, her eyes shining with affection for her disciple.

Zhou Ru obediently walked to Mu Bingmei’s side. Wang Lin, hesitating for a moment, chose not to intervene.

Mu Bingmei coiled Zhou Ru’s hair, carefully placing the hairpin upon her head. She gently stroked Zhou Ru’s head, her face losing its usual icy facade. She whispered, “Remember, you will always be my disciple, my only disciple… Kunxu is your second home. Now… go.”

“Mistress!” Tears welled up in Zhou Ru’s eyes. She had a feeling that her mistress and uncle knew each other, but were no friends. She feared she would never see her again.

Wang Lin’s heart was torn. He could see the genuine affection between Mu Bingmei and Zhou Ru, but he dared not trust it. He thought of Liu Mei’s Dao of Heartlessness and said in a deep voice, “Zhou Ru.”

Zhou Ru looked at Mu Bingmei, took a few steps back, and knelt. She knocked her head against the ground three times, crying, “Mistress, I am leaving.”

“Go…” Mu Bingmei bit her lip. Her heart was in pain, as if she had lost something precious, leaving her feeling empty. She took a few steps back, gave a forced smile, and nodded.

Leading the reluctant Zhou Ru, Wang Lin stepped into the teleportation array, ready to depart.

Just then, Mu Bingmei mustered all her courage, looking at Wang Lin’s back, and whispered, “Wang Lin, I’m sorry…”

Wang Lin’s body trembled. He stood in the array, but did not activate it.

“I’m sorry… truly… I’m sorry…” Mu Bingmei’s body shook, tears streaming down her face as she repeated the apology.

The suffering had been tormenting her over the years, waking her from meditation every night, filling her with inexplicable feelings of confusion and unease.

“Liu Mei is dead. You are not her. You don’t have to say sorry,” Wang Lin replied, without turning around. He clutched at his chest in pain. He recalled the first time he saw Wang Ping, the resentment on the wraith, and the hate in his eyes. It was a memory he could never escape.

Liu Mei had sought to leave her mark on Wang Lin’s heart, and she had succeeded, even today.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Mu Bingmei’s face was pale, tears streamed down her beautiful face, dropping to the ground, carrying the weight of her pain.

Wang Lin silently activated the array. As the formation roared, the light encompassed them, ready to send them away. At the last moment, as if making up his mind, he paused the array and spoke softly.

“Do you really want to see him?”