With only a slight pause for thought, Zong Shou smiled and walked forward. Understanding his location, he felt not the slightest hesitation about this place.

He vividly manifested a figure here, exactly as he had appeared in his previous life. With just a slight stir of his will, he approached the cluster of light.

What he saw was an immense, sapphire-blue halo, within which nothing was clearly visible, yet the mere ripples emanating from it caused a sense of dread.

But what Zong Shou cared about most was a person not far away. About thirteen years old, with features even more beautiful than a woman's—precisely the appearance of the body he currently inhabited, the original Zong Shou.

The youth stood before the halo, looking over, his expression surprisingly placid: "You've come. I've finally waited for you."

Zong Shou smiled, walked up to the youth without surprise, and waved a hand. A low table appeared before him, complete with a pot of fine wine and several cups.

Since this was his own world of consciousness, a dream realm of sorts, he could naturally do as he pleased.

He sat down directly, pouring wine as he gestured a welcome: "You are Zong Shou? Don't just stand there. Sit and talk with me—"

It was strange; the youth, being of royal blood, possessed peerless looks and attire. Zong Shou's own appearance was merely slightly handsome, clad only in the most ordinary azure robe.

Yet, at this very moment, he seemed more like a dashing young nobleman than the youth. His plain clothing radiated undeniable nobility, and his casual demeanor held an indescribable, elegant bearing.

Logically, he should have been inferior to the youth, but before him, the latter seemed like a firefly next to the bright moon—utterly incomparable.

The youth stared, momentarily lost in a daze, then offered no resistance and sat down before Zong Shou. He picked up a wine cup, took a sip, and found the flavor extraordinarily delicious, wondering how Zong Shou had manifested it.

Draining the cup, the youth hesitated briefly before speaking again: "Since I fell unconscious that day, I’ve wanted to see you."

Zong Shou nodded slightly, continuing to pour and drink his own wine, unconcerned: "Do you want this body back?"

If the youth desired it, Zong Shou truly wouldn't care. It wasn't his to begin with; there was no need to forcibly occupy it.

Even though he currently held a longing for life, he also very much wanted to see what the Myriad Worlds of the Ten Directions looked like ten thousand years ago—

He had assumed the body's owner was dead, which would have settled things. But since the original consciousness remained, he felt rather awkward.

Naturally, he had no intention of ending his own life lightly; as long as the spirit remained, there would always be a way to survive.

Unexpectedly, the youth directly shook his head: "You gained all thirteen years of my memories, so naturally, I can observe your past life’s experiences. I know you came from ten thousand years in the future, named Tan Qiu in your previous life. In that game called Divine Emperor, you were known as the Sword Emperor, a figure who caused immeasurable trouble for all the Sects, righteous and demonic alike, both in the virtual and real worlds—"

Zong Shou couldn't help but smile faintly; the word 'trouble' was used extraordinarily well.

However, in the eyes of those true powerhouses standing at the pinnacle of martial arts or spiritual techniques, he back then could at most warrant a slight notice—no different from a mosquito or a fly.

"At first, I wanted my body back. But as time went on, I stopped thinking that way—"

The youth spoke quietly, his tone flat, as if discussing someone else’s affairs.

"I know that in your past life, you actually struggled just as much as I did, perhaps more so. You lacked a prominent background, nor did you have a father to shelter you from storms. Your physical body was shattered, and the difficulty of your cultivation was no less than mine. But the final outcome was drastically different. Even when cornered and facing repeated setbacks, you managed to fight fiercely and grow into a towering tree yourself. I, however, only knew how to complain about fate and resent the injustice of heaven and earth. You should know, in the final two years at the Linhai Academy, I had already given up and fallen into despair. If my father’s unknown whereabouts hadn't spurred me on, I wouldn't have taken such a desperate risk."

Zong Shou remained silent. He admitted the fellow had some resilience, but those last two years had earned his disdain.

Since he possessed a man's body, even if trampled into the mud, one must have the spirit to climb out of it!

However, seeing the youth's dejected appearance, Zong Shou decided not to utter any discouraging words.

"Later, I learned that even if I hadn't died this time, my head would have been severed sooner or later, and my corpse left exposed for months. I learned that my Royal Father would also offend the Lingyun Sect because of me, leading to his premature death. And I learned that our Demon Race would eventually be slaughtered over the next thousand years."

At this point, the youth let out a self-deprecating chuckle: "What does it matter if you take this body? At least what you can achieve is far greater than what I could."

Zong Shou showed no joy. He knew the youth hadn't finished speaking. There are never truly free lunches in this world.

"You went to Cloud Saint City not just to seek the spiritual medicine there, but actually to avoid the conflict at Qiantian Mountain, correct? That position of Demon King was never something you desired."

The youth smiled faintly, his voice growing weaker: "I have a degree of self-awareness. Even now, having all your memories, I wouldn't dare claim I could reverse fate and break through the Meridian Wheel. I ask for nothing else. Qiantian Mountain is the foundation my father worked so hard to build; I absolutely refuse to see it fall into others' hands. As for Father and my mother whom I never met, Zong Shou only asks that those two live out their lives safely. Consider it my dying wish—"

Zong Shou hadn't paid attention to the preceding words, calmly drinking his wine. Only upon hearing the last two sentences did he show a slight stirring of emotion.

The next moment, he frowned slightly. The youth's consciousness was currently beginning to dissipate, actively merging into his own soul. Not only was the voice fading, but the figure was becoming increasingly translucent. Zong Shou wanted to intervene, but found himself utterly helpless at this moment.

Zong Shou didn't know what to say.

His objective in going to Cloud Saint City was indeed to avoid trouble. While he didn't intend to leave the East Lin Yun Continent entirely, he certainly didn't plan to involve himself in the Qiantian Mountain dispute.

Wouldn't it be better to wander freely between the realms and read all the world's books?

With a long sigh, Zong Shou looked toward the other side, at that immense sapphire-blue halo.

"Hey! One last question: what exactly is inside that light cluster? Just looking at it is somewhat terrifying?"

"That? I'm not entirely sure either. I only know that when I was conscious, this thing was already here. It’s something you brought, so why ask me?"

The youth smiled, his expression suddenly seeming profound and inscrutable: "In any case, one day you will know. And you will know that I am you, and you are me. The two of us are fundamentally one entity—"

Zong Shou's brow immediately furrowed.

When conscious, this thing was already here. Does 'conscious' refer to the time after he occupied this body?

Something he brought? How was that possible?

And what was this nonsense about 'I am you, you are me. The two of us are one'?

The words sounded oddly intimate, sending a shiver down his spine, raising goosebumps across his entire body.

When he tried to ask further, the youth's figure had already vanished without a trace.

The next moment, waves of resentment, unwillingness, anger, fear, and yearning—countless emotions—surged into his chest simultaneously like a tidal wave.

Zong Shou knew these were all the youth's feelings. Though they didn't originate from him, somehow, he felt them as if they were his own right now.

PS: Countdown to entering the New Book Chart, alas, this month is crowded with great authors.