Falling Snow!

Several top-tier storage bags fell out of thin air onto Xu Xian's lap.

Taking one up to look inside, the youth suddenly trembled and sucked in a breath of cold air.

"Hiss—"

He looked at Yun Zheng in utter disbelief and asked tentatively, "These... are all for me?"

Yun Zheng shook the wide sleeves of his green robes and spoke unhurriedly, "My life, your senior brother's life, has been as plain as a pot of boiled water."

"In my youth, I was obsessed with the Dao of the sword. I cultivated bitterly for hundreds of years, never inquiring about the red dust."

"The first time I descended the mountain for experience, I heard that the humans of the Central Plains were at war with the beasts, spirits, and demons of the Northern Borders. The one leading them was our Master, who was also young back then."

"However, at that time, Master was already a saint at the peak of tribulation transcendence, while I was merely an obscure cultivator at the great ascension stage."

"I walked the human realm for some time and heard many rumors about Master. Back then, the most common thing I heard people say was: 'Who stands at the peak of the sword's far shore? The Green Lotus Sword Immortal, Li Taibai.'"

"Carrying curiosity and expectation, I traveled from the Central Province to the Northern Borders, wanting to catch a glimpse of this legendary sword powerhouse. I wanted to see what kind of person he truly was."

"When I arrived, it was right here. I saw Master from afar as he struck his final blow. It was that single strike that has kept me in awe to this day."

"That strike was the final form of the Green Lotus Sword Song—Ten Thousand Lotuses on One Stem."

"Lotus leaves touching the sky are infinitely green; world-toppling blossoms are uniquely red."

"Even now, I cannot forget that sword..."

Yun Zheng's originally cloudy and dim eyes suddenly flickered with light. He looked radiant, like a withered tree meeting spring, his eyes filled with longing for past memories and adoration for the Sword Ancestor.

His voice trembled slightly, but then it took a sharp turn. The divine light in his eyes faded in an instant, replaced by infinite regret.

Even his tone became saturated with a faint sadness.

"Unfortunately, I arrived too late. I only saw that one strike."

"It was also after that strike that the beast race was routed, the demon race surrendered, and the spirits bowed their heads."

"What a shame!"

"At the time, I thought, if only I had left the mountain earlier, perhaps I could have fought side-by-side with Master. Together, we could have swept through the Northern Borders with our swords and made the myriad races submit."

"But... arriving late is arriving late."

Yun Zheng smiled bitterly, his regret turning into desolation.

Yet his voice did not stop; he continued to speak softly.

He seemed intent on using this final day to recount the loneliness of his entire life.

"Later, Master established the Wendao Sect, and I joined."

"I swore that I would spend my entire life striving to become a sword cultivator like Master."

"Master saw my sincerity and felt I had some modicum of intelligence, so he reluctantly took me under his wing."

"Later still, he passed the position of Sect Master to me."

"From that point on, I was the second Sect Master of the Wendao Sect."

"In the years that followed, I continued to pursue the Dao of the sword, never leaving the Wendao Sect by a single step. The world only knew of me because of the year I underwent my lightning tribulation, where I struck three times in succession to cleave the thunder and enter the tribulation transcendence stage."

"It was from that moment that the people of the Central Plains knew of my existence."

"Under the Sword Ancestor's name, I was ranked fifth."

"Later, after I passed the Sect Master's position to your Sixth Senior Sister, I returned to the Ancestral Peak and stopped concerning myself with the affairs of the human realm. Counting it up, it has been several millennia."

"Many people know of me, but few know my name."

"The first half of my life was spent within the sect."

"As a cultivator in the tribulation transcendence stage, I naturally disdained worldly possessions. Thus, my only lifelong asset was a single immortal sword."

At this point, he paused intentionally, his gaze slowly shifting toward Xu Xian.

His eyes softened significantly. For a moment, Xu Xian felt that Yun Zheng was no different from an old man in the mortal world giving his final instructions on his deathbed.

He smiled warmly. "But Listening Wind comes from the Sword Mound and chose me as its master long ago. After I die, it will eventually return to the Sword Mound. All things considered, your senior brother is truly empty-handed and penniless."

"Fortunately, during this trip to the Great Desolation, I killed quite a few demons. Although some were torn apart by sword qi and others were incinerated by your Heaven-Burning Sparrow's sword flames, what remains—though not much—are all beast sovereigns and beast gods. They should be worth something."

"I have nothing else to give you. Consider these a meeting gift I'm giving you on behalf of our Master."

"Use them if they are useful."

"Discard them if they are not."

"Do not look down on them."

"And I will not be troubled."

Xu Xian held the storage bags in his hands, momentarily at a loss for words.

He had just taken a cursory glance.

Inside the storage bags were no fewer than a hundred beast sovereigns.

There were no fewer than eight beast gods.

There was also a pair of wings, snowy white and stained with faint golden beast blood.

If he wasn't mistaken, these were definitely the wings of the Bai Ze.

To give so many things yet speak so modestly...

It truly made him feel unworthy.

No matter how thick-skinned Xu Xian was, he found it difficult to remain calm at this moment.

He felt a sense of hesitation about accepting them as if it were only natural.

He tried to decline, saying, "Senior Brother, you overstate things. This... is truly too much. I am unworthy of such a gift. Perhaps we should share it with the other senior brothers and sisters, or hand it over to the sect?"

Yun Zheng waved his hand. "I know you are short on money; otherwise, you wouldn't have spent four years forging iron in this Great Desolation. This is a personal gift from me, a way of supporting you. Do not refuse. As for how you use it in the future—whether for yourself or as gifts—that is your business and has nothing to do with me..."

Xu Xian was speechless. He simply clasped his hands in a deep bow, offered his thanks, and chose to remain silent.

"Thank you, Senior Brother!"

Inwardly, he thought, 'Rest assured, Senior Brother. I will not let you down.'

Yun Zheng sighed. "It's a pity that old beast ran so fast. In the end, I couldn't kill him. I suppose that's a regret. Life should always have some regrets."

Xu Xian said solemnly, "It is enough. Within five thousand years, the demon race will find it hard to achieve anything great."

Yun Zheng looked at the youth dotingly. With just that one look, it seemed all his worries and regrets had completely dissipated.

He lifted his eyes to gaze at the distant green clouds. In the setting sun, he remarked, "The sunset is truly beautiful!"

Xu Xian looked up, then looked back at the old man.

"Yes, it is beautiful!"

Unfortunately.

The setting sun is infinitely good, but it is near the twilight.

Suddenly.

The wind rose.

Coming from afar, it swept across the Wild River, brushed over the hills, and finally ruffled Yun Zheng's white hair and the youth's black locks.

The elderly man's gaze grew deep, and his voice became heroic as he chanted into the wind.

"Killed a million demons in the East Desolation,

The sword at my waist is still stained with blood.

The common folk know not the Sword Immortal's face,

They only clamor to ask for his name."

His voice was clear and resonant, echoing far and wide.

Yun Zheng sat cross-legged, looking up at the vast sky and the distant clouds, and slowly closed his eyes.

His white brows relaxed, and the old man wore a faint smile, looking like a serene Buddha.

"The autumn wind has no intent to pity the leaves,

How can it allow me to be a youth again?

Born like a green cloud rising straight up,

Stepping through the extraordinary years.

Yun Zheng's life..."

"Has no regrets!"

His voice was very soft, requiring careful listening.

As the sound fell, the wind seemed to grow stronger. The elderly man in his twilight was thus blown away, bit by bit, dispersing into the air.

The setting sun vanished, and the evening wind grew cold.

With the last glimmer of yellow, a heavy snow began to fall over the three-thousand-mile Demon Suppression Abyss.

The snowflakes fluttered down, accompanied by the ceaseless wind and the flowing waters of the Wild River.

The youth sat on the mountain peak, motionless, letting the fierce wind howl in his ears and the falling snow cover his head, shoulders, and body...

He stiffly raised his head, his eyes rimmed with red. It was unclear if the snow was too heavy or the wind too cold.

He slowly reached out his hand, trying to catch the falling snow, and murmured to himself,

"Who says the Heavens are not hospitable?

A sky of wind and snow sees one man off."

That day.

At dusk.

In the heavy snow.

A Sword Immortal fell, and autumn turned his hair white. The youth stood up, bowed toward the heavens, and chanted loudly.

"Wendao Sect,"

"First-generation disciple Xu Xian,"

"Respectfully sees off Senior Brother Yun Zheng!!"