Jiang Beiyu saw many things and heard many voices.
Those that once seemed to overwhelm him surged forth, and he listened to those resentments quietly, like a passerby, regardless of their nature.
Memories of a past life were revisited, and some long-forgotten details were rekindled, but whether in the past life or this life, Su Nanzhi's presence in his memories was not abundant.
He loved deeply, yet the time they spent together was brief.
His greatest fear stemmed from loss, and here, that fear was amplified many times over.
The scene of holding a cold body in his arms from thousands of years ago replayed endlessly, and the grief and unwillingness then seemed to flood his heart once more.
Jiang Beiyu lowered his eyes, his hands icy cold, yet around him in this volcanic area was ice several feet thick.
He looked at the indistinguishable illusions before him and slowly smiled.
"Fake."
