Mou Zilong's face was heavy with concern. "Brother He. What happened?" He paused, tentatively asking, "Did something happen to Mr. One Hundred and Eight?"

A muscle in He Yiming's face twitched almost imperceptibly, but he had managed to rein in his emotions. After a long silence, he finally said, "Brother Bai gave his life to seal the passage."

Baozhu suddenly leaped up, scrambling onto He Yiming's head, letting out a few sharp snorts. "Impossible! One Hundred and Eight can't be dead."

White Horse Lightning also widened its beautiful, large eyes, an expression of utter disbelief flickering within their depths.

They had both witnessed One Hundred and Eight's transformation abilities; how could a fellow who treated being riddled with holes as a minor inconvenience possibly be dead?

He Yiming gently patted Baozhu and the White Horse, but his own expression remained bleak.

"Waaah..." Baozhu jumped again, landing atop the White Horse's head, firmly gripping the single horn with its two front hooves, and burst into loud sobs.

If others hadn't witnessed it firsthand, they surely would have thought it was the heartbroken cry of a child who had lost a loved one.

Although Yuan Lixun had also known One Hundred and Eight, their acquaintance was brief, and their relationship wasn't close. As for Mou Zilong, he had never even met One Hundred and Eight face-to-face. Therefore, neither of them felt much sorrow or grief.

Mou Zilong sighed regretfully. "Brother He, please accept my condolences." He paused. "Since Mr. Bai is gone, we must devise a way to retrieve his body and find a place of good feng shui for his burial. That would be far better than letting him sink to the bottom of the sea."

He Yiming's spirit immediately lifted. He said in a deep voice, "Brother Mou is absolutely right; it was my oversight."

With a swift movement, he plunged back into the icy seawater. With his level of martial cultivation, he naturally didn't fear the temperature, but when his skin met the chilling water and everything around him settled into silence, his heart finally began to find a measure of calm.

The water behind him stirred as well. He Yiming glanced back to see White Horse Lightning and Baozhu had also jumped in, following closely behind him.

He sighed inwardly, remembering the days those three had traveled alongside One Hundred and Eight, and a fresh pang of heartache resurfaced.

Shaking his head, He Yiming moved forward quickly.

Soon, he returned to his original spot. That piece of white stone was still floating there, and no living creature dared approach the vicinity.

He Yiming scrutinized the stone carefully. In his memory, ordinary creatures usually paid such an object no mind. But if a Spirit Beast encountered it, it would go to great lengths to linger nearby and bathe in the stone's radiance, as doing so brought immense benefits to the creature, sometimes even fostering the mutation of powerful Spirit Beasts.

The twin-headed Spirit Wolf of the past had originated in this very manner.

However, there were no Spirit Beasts surrounding the white stone now, so it rested quietly. Still, the water was not static; while the bottom of the North Sea was undoubtedly the gentlest and most serene of all the ocean regions, the currents still moved slowly, carrying the stone further away.

Fortunately, the water moved slowly, and He Yiming had entered the sea immediately, so the relatively weightless stone hadn't drifted too far.

He subtly shifted his body and positioned himself before the white stone. Just as he was about to reach out and take it, his gaze inadvertently swept over something, causing him to freeze mid-motion, all action ceasing abruptly.

There, resting snugly atop the white stone, was the miniature version of Little One Hundred and Eight, looking as if it intended to make this spot its permanent home.

However, this was not what caught He Yiming's attention. What truly shocked him was that the little One Hundred and Eight seemed noticeably larger than it had been just moments before.

Even in the North Sea, He Yiming rubbed his eyes, strongly doubting whether his vision was playing tricks on him or if Little One Hundred and Eight had truly increased in size.

He took a deep breath, and a mouthful of icy seawater instantly flooded his nasal cavity. But He Yiming did not stop it; he wanted the cold shock to bring him clarity.

Upon observing the change in Little One Hundred and Eight, He Yiming seemed to grasp something—a fleeting thread of inspiration that felt profoundly important.

His eyes darted, and his consciousness swept over the body of Little One Hundred and Eight and the white stone. Then, with a pull of his hand, the white stone flew into his grasp as if iron filings reacting to a magnet.

He Yiming kept his consciousness locked onto Little One Hundred and Eight, and only when he saw that this level of disturbance did not affect it at all did he finally relax.

He pointed upward toward Baozhu and White Horse Lightning. These two divine beasts, being intelligent, instantly understood his meaning.

The man and the two beasts shot out of the icy surface like arrows, reaching the frozen layer above.

Yuan Lixun and Mou Zilong rushed over. Seeing the white stone He Yiming held in his hand, Yuan Lixun’s expression dimmed slightly, while Mou Zilong looked utterly bewildered.

He hesitated. "Brother He, were you unable to find Mr. Bai's remains?"

This was not land, but the boundless North Sea. Finding a person's corpse here was hardly easier than searching for a needle in a haystack. Even knowing the body was within this specific stretch of ocean, locating it might prove impossible.

Once a human corpse enters the water, it is invariably consumed by fish, whereas an iron needle, despite its size, would not be swallowed. If One Hundred and Eight’s body had been devoured by some large sea monster, they could scour the North Sea upside down and still find no trace.

He Yiming shook his head slightly. "Brother Mou, this matter is difficult to explain right now." He paused. "I need everyone's help with something."

"Brother He, just give the order," Mou Zilong stated gravely.

He understood perfectly that among those present, apart from himself, everyone—Yuan Lixun, the White Horse, Baozhu, and even that silent Divine Dao Puppet—was closely connected to He Yiming. Whatever he needed done, a simple instruction would be met with willing assistance. Thus, these words were fundamentally aimed at him alone.

He Yiming gave him a look of gratitude. "This is a fragment of the white stone Brother Bai used to seal the passage. Now, I need this fragment. I need all the fragments, not a single one missing."

Mou Zilong and Yuan Lixun exchanged glances, their worry deepening.

He Yiming's behavior was highly abnormal. It led them both to suspect he might still be trapped in overwhelming grief.

Sighing softly, Mou Zilong said, "Brother He, rest assured. We will do our utmost to find them. But..." His eyes fixed seriously on He Yiming, "you must also remember that you have not only dear friends like Mr. Bai but also your own kin."

He Yiming slapped his forehead and gave a wry smile. "Brother Mou, I am absolutely not beside myself with grief. It's just that..." His brow furrowed; the matter was too astonishing, and even he wasn't entirely sure of the implications. It was best not to speak of it directly for now: "In any case, these white stone fragments are vitally important to me. I beg for your assistance, Brother Mou."

Mou Zilong smiled faintly. Though his confusion grew, seeing that He Yiming did not seem agitated or enraged, he set his worry aside. He approached the white stone, examining it closely, marveling inwardly, as in his countless years traversing the world, he had never encountered such an object.

Having memorized its appearance, he then questioned Yuan Lixun in detail about the conditions when the stone shattered and where He Yiming had first discovered it. Immediately after, he plunged into the sea, beginning his search according to his own methods.

Yuan Lixun conferred briefly with Baozhu and White Horse Lightning, estimated the location, and submerged simultaneously.

This time, even Baozhu—who was usually lazy to the extreme, preferring to lie down rather than stand, and stand rather than walk—put forth its full effort without the slightest slackening.

These individuals were all top-tier Divine Dao experts. Mou Zilong was immensely experienced; Yuan Lixun had the aid of the Ice Mirror; White Horse Lightning possessed natural brilliance; and Baozhu, by transforming, expanded its body manifold, making its movements and sensory perception far superior to its small form.

In barely half an incense stick's time, a mist rose from the sea surface as Mou Zilong flew back up from the depths.

In his hand, he held a piece of white stone, though it was not large—only about one-fifth the size of the piece He Yiming had found.

"Brother He, is this what you were looking for?"

He Yiming reached out and took it, sweeping his consciousness across the surface.

Although he was almost certain by visual inspection alone that this was another fragment, he still checked it carefully with his mind, just to be certain.

A familiar sensation instantly flooded his heart—it was the residual information left by One Hundred and Eight on the stone.

He had left this message on every single fragment. As long as he could find even one, he would know everything that had transpired at that location.

However, One Hundred and Eight could never have imagined that He Yiming would mobilize every resource to gather all these fragments.

He opened his eyes. "It is indeed one of them. Thank you, Brother Mou."

Mou Zilong laughed heartily, turned around, and leaped back into the vast ocean, leaving only his voice echoing in the open space: "Brother He, rest easy. Any white stone in the sea, I will surely help you find them all."

He Yiming stared at the empty expanse of water, slowly nodding. The gratitude in his eyes was unmistakable.

Mou Zilong's actions had thoroughly earned his friendship and appreciation.

His consciousness shifted again, returning to the white stone and the Little One Hundred and Eight clinging to it.

The next moment, He Yiming’s eyes widened; his heart surged with tumultuous excitement, overwhelming his control...