Mingxing Peak.
Zhi Xin sat on the edge of the cliff, meditating in silence.
The fierce wind stirred his robes, his pale hair fluttered with the gusts, his silhouette exuding loneliness and desolation.
"Deep affection does not endure, excessive wisdom invites wounds."
These eight words could sum up the first half of Zhi Xin's life.
Though he possessed great talent, he had insisted on exhausting his Primordial Energy to assist his Taoist couple in crossing a tribulation. When the attempt failed, he then devoted hundreds of years searching for ways to cure her.
Too sentimental.
If not for this, he might have ascended to a higher position much earlier.
If he chose to forget those past events and abandon avenging a dead soul, the burden could have been much lighter.
Yet, if this were the case, Zhi Xin wouldn't truly be himself.
At this thought, Zhi Xin suddenly stood up.
Gazing into the distance, deep in contemplation.
"It's not over yet…"
