Nine colossal shards of land, each a floating island in the void, circled in a solemn dance. They echoed within the ancient firmament, bound by an invisible weave of power. None but those bearing the blood of immortals could pierce this veil; to mortal eyes, the islands were but phantoms. Even a wanderer passing unknowingly would see nothing, and mortal senses could not perceive the barrier woven from eldritch energies.

The Grand Elder bowed deeply, his hands clasped in reverence upon one of the islands. As he offered his obeisance, seven of the nine shards erupted in brilliant hues, their light intertwined to form a glorious rainbow spanning the void.

The remaining two islands remained shrouded in shadow, their dimness swallowed by the vibrant arc. Within the shifting colors of the rainbow, a figure slowly coalesced. At first, it was but a vague outline wreathed in prismatic light, but gradually, its form sharpened, and it stepped forth from the heart of the rainbow.

Were Wang Lin to witness this apparition, he would recognize it instantly: the Seven-Colored Daoist, whom he had encountered when rescuing Clear Water within the Seven-Colored Realm!

“Disciple greets the Venerable Master,” the Grand Elder said after a moment of silence, his gaze fixed upon the floating form. A complex emotion lay hidden within his eyes.

“The battle in the Realm… our outer stars of antiquity were defeated. The Venerable Master commanded me to return the Li Guang Bow to the Realm, but it now rests in Wang Lin’s hands. I lack the strength to reclaim it, and beg the Venerable Master’s guidance.”

The Seven-Colored Daoist, now fully formed, stood in the void, his countenance serene as his gaze swept over the Grand Elder.

“Has he truly lost his mind?” the Daoist asked abruptly.

The Grand Elder flinched, his eyes briefly closed before he opened them and nodded.

“I think not,” the Seven-Colored Daoist said with a faint smile, turning his gaze into the distance, an odd light gleaming in his eyes.

“I will aid you in opening the Ancient Tombs, allowing certain individuals to emerge. As for what follows, you must decide for yourself… This game nears its end. The Third… You have concealed yourself for countless ages, passed through endless cycles of rebirth. This time, you must reveal yourself.” A smile played upon the Daoist’s lips, and anticipation filled his eyes.

“Wang Lin… is he the Third?” the Grand Elder asked hesitantly.

“Besides you, myself, Old Man Zhan, and a few others, any could be the Third… He hides too deeply. Perhaps even he is unaware of his true identity…

As for Wang Lin, he seems unlikely, yet it is not impossible,” the Seven-Colored Daoist replied slowly.

The Grand Elder sighed inwardly, clasped his hands towards the Daoist, and turned to depart. But after only a few steps, he paused, not turning back, and spoke in a low voice.

“Years ago, you commanded me to become your disciple, and I obeyed. You promised me something…”

“Your master cannot leave this place! Once I have devoured the Third, even Old Man Zhan will be no match for me. Then your former master will become my sustenance,” the Seven-Colored Daoist chuckled, his form dissolving into a stream of rainbow light that vanished into the void.

A myriad of emotions crossed the Grand Elder’s face before he sighed softly and walked away.

Time flowed onward. Wang Lin sat in meditation within the array formed by the Three Origins, the Heavenly Furnace resting beneath him. Within the furnace languished two experts of the Emptiness Profound Realm: the black-robed elder and the Fifth Immortal Concubine!

Their powers were formidable, and though they were trapped within the furnace, Wang Lin found it difficult to refine them quickly. He sat upon the furnace, eyes closed, suppressing and sealing their essence with each breath.

He had sworn to protect the Realm for three years, these most arduous years. An unknown length of time had passed when three streaks of light faintly appeared in the expanded Sea of Clouds Star Region behind Wang Lin, coalescing into the forms of three women.

They stood a mere thousand feet from Wang Lin, watching his silent figure seated within the protective array.

His form was desolate, radiating a sense of profound loneliness. Yet, at the same time, it possessed the strength of a mountain. His presence was a bulwark, a guardian for the Realm.

The first to step forward was Xizi Feng. Her fragile form drifted across the thousand feet, until she stood beside Wang Lin. Looking at him sitting there, eyes closed, a tender expression filled her eyes and a beautiful smile bloomed upon her face.

“I understand now… I do not wish to be your disciple… never again!”

“We cultivators possess lifespans that stretch across vast ages. I know not how long our lives will last, but I desire one year of your life!

Just one year is enough… You have guarded the Realm for three years. Allow me to accompany you here for one year…” Xizi Feng said softly.

Wang Lin remained silent, his eyes closed, uttering not a word.

“After one year, I will leave. If I die, I will fade into nothingness. If I live, I will cultivate in peace!

You may not speak, you may not look at me, but I will remain here. You cannot drive me away.” Xizi Feng did not care about Wang Lin’s lack of response. She sat beside him, silently gazing upon him.

She was a beautiful woman, weathered by time, but at this moment, beside Wang Lin, she seemed to return to her youth, to that year, so long ago. Wang Lin was her first love, and would be her last. The endless passage of time was but a bridge between them.

She was no longer young. She could even sense that Wang Lin’s heart likely held no place for her. After all, they had spent little time together. Perhaps she was merely a passerby in his life.

She understood all of this. Xizi Feng did not seek eternity; she merely desired this one year, one year of companionship, to bring her lifelong love to a close.

She was a woman without courage, but now, with great effort, she had spoken these words to Wang Lin. Though her expression seemed calm, her heart was in turmoil. She feared rejection, feared that Wang Lin would deny her even this one year.

She looked at Wang Lin, biting her lip.
“Begone.” Wang Lin spoke without opening his eyes, nor did he look at her, the words uttered with a chilling calm.

The single sentence seemed to drain Xi Zifeng of all strength, her face paling instantly.

“I ask only for a year… Wang Lin, grant me but this season. Is it so much to ask?” In the face of Wang Lin’s unwavering silence, Xi Zifeng’s voice trembled, her eyes welling with moisture. Though she was a woman of gentle spirit, tears were a rare sight indeed.

The few times she had wept were almost always because of the figure before her, a man she could not, would not, forget.

“A cursed fate…” The words of her former master echoed in her ears, as clear as the day they were spoken.

“A year, can you not even grant me a single year?! Wang Lin, I know you cannot accept me, but I ask only for time, a year’s duration. Is it so long?” Wang Lin remained unmoved, his eyes closed, his very stillness a blade twisting in Xi Zifeng’s heart. With a bitter laugh, she rose unsteadily, stumbling backward.

She felt like a foolish jester, muttering to herself in an empty theater, every word turning to thorns that pierced her own heart. The pain was sharp, unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, Wang Lin opened his eyes, looking upon Xi Zifeng, the woman who was not entirely absent from his memories. His gaze softened, and he spoke softly, “A year, you shall have it.” Wang Lin knew not if he could resurrect Li Muwan, nor if he would ever escape this accursed cavern. Perhaps death awaited him here.

Having learned so many hidden truths, how could he deny a woman’s request for so little time?

He knew that another rejection would break her spirit, leaving her forever a memory, a ghost that would haunt him for ages to come. Perhaps, years hence, he would still recall the name of a woman called Xi Zifeng.

Tears streamed down Xi Zifeng’s face, tears of profound complexity. Wordlessly, she sat down beside Wang Lin.

“A year is enough. I shall take no more, Wang Lin.” Xi Zifeng whispered.

Far away, Mu Bingmei and the woman in pink sat in solemn silence, cross-legged in the starry expanse a thousand fathoms distant. They had arrived here with an unspoken agreement: a year for each, and no more.

A year was a fleeting moment, both for mortals and cultivators alike. Often, a single retreat, a brief meditation, could devour years in the blink of an eye.

But for Xi Zifeng, this year, she prayed, would pass slowly.

Wang Lin was not a man of many words, especially not to women. Even when he was with Li Muwan, he would often watch her in a silent, tender manner.

In what seemed an instant, the first third of the year, a mere three months, had slipped away.

During those months, Wang Lin spoke little, but Xi Zifeng was content. They walked side-by-side upon the cosmic carousel, sharing the passage of time.

Knowing Wang Lin favored wine, she prepared a small pot, floating amidst the stars before him. Within, water simmered, cradling a flask, the gentle heat warming the brew within.

The water reached its boiling point, but the wine was not yet fully warmed. A chilling wind, strangely out of place in the star-strewn void, howled from the distance, buffeting the pot and sending ripples across the heated water.

A glint of icy fury flickered in Wang Lin’s eyes. He looked up, past the borders of the realm, into the ancient starlight. There, in his sight, he saw swarms of densely packed, rushing lights. These were the armies of cultivators from beyond the borders, reforming and advancing!

Among them, five figures radiated the might of the Third Step, like five sharp arrows piercing through the void.

And behind those five, amidst the army of tens of thousands, were massive war chariots, each a thousand fathoms in size, pushed forward by a multitude of cultivators.

A cacophony of earth-shattering booms erupted in the once-silent space, growing ever louder, until they merged into a thunderous roar.

“They come!” Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with a chilling light.