Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Yuren did not take the string of stone pearls, even though he knew they were Heavenly Tome Monoliths.

Xu Yourong had undoubtedly placed her hopes on him because Chen Changsheng would often mention him.

But he had no way to enter the Garden of Zhou.

And he knew that Chen Changsheng would not want him to appear.

If Chen Changsheng really did encounter some unresolvable danger, he would naturally come out of the Garden of Zhou.

The White Grass Path was straight and long, and one would experience the transformations of the four seasons over a short period as one walked it.

It didn't take long for Chen Changsheng to experience spring, summer, autumn, and then winter, running headlong into a fierce snowstorm.

He continued to charge toward the other side of the snowstorm, his complexion even paler than the snow.

The temple in the depths of the snowstorm had already become a little black and blazing dot.

On the White Grass Path, there was a temple at ten li, one at one hundred, and one at one thousand.

Chen Changsheng and Shang Xingzhou met three times, each time at one of these three temples.

Whether or not he hid in the temple, he would eventually be found out.

Perhaps it was because the place this master and disciple had interacted the longest in was Xining Village's old temple.

These three short but dangerous encounters worsened Chen Changsheng's injuries.

A few of the monsters, endowed with more ambition than intelligence, could not help but appear to assist Chen Changsheng, only to be chopped to pieces by Shang Xingzhou's sword.

The sea of grass in those parts was painted red by monster blood, a gory sight.

No matter how dangerous the situation became, Chen Changsheng still had no intention of leaving the Garden of Zhou.

To leave on his own and imprison Shang Xingzhou in the Garden of Zhou was not an option, because that would not be a fight.

Moreover, the moment he opened that spatial path, Shang Xingzhou was highly likely to use that chance to catch him.

For this reason, he did not even try to use the laws of the Garden of Zhou to engage in spatial transfer.

More importantly, all the preparations he had made to defeat Shang Xingzhou completely lay in the Garden of Zhou.

In those days of quiet contemplation in the Li Palace, he had prepared a great deal.

But those methods had all been established on his ability to use his swords.

The moment he entered the Garden of Zhou, all his swords were taken away, so what could he do?

When would he stop his escape?

Just where did he want to go?

The snow falling over the sea of grass suddenly became rather dark.

This was because the light in the sky had changed.

A massive shadow had eclipsed the path and grasslands before him.

Like a wisp of smoke, Chen Changsheng flew through the snowstorm and into the depths of that shadow.

The Mausoleum of Zhou was there.

The bottom of his shoes left minor depressions on the stone, with tiny cracks webbing off from their edges.

The howling winds moved his sleeves, which were so straight that they seemed like flashing blades.

Chen Changsheng flew forward, quickly reaching the middle of the Mausoleum of Zhou, the familiar end of the mausoleum path.

A green tree called the Tong Palace had once grown here.

He and Xu Yourong had confronted the Golden-winged Great Peng summoned by Nanke here, as well as the terrifying monster tide.

The Sword Pool had awoken.

Ten thousand swords had formed a dragon.

This story of the past had not taken place too long ago, but it seemed to be from another life.

The Golden-winged Great Peng was in the ancestral lands of the Elf race, absorbing the essence of the world and waiting to truly mature.

Nanke was in Mount Li, listening every night to the music of the sword to clear her mind, with no one able to determine when she would truly wake up.

It was hard to say whether the monsters would be able to continue living their beautiful life of the last few years after today.

Today, his opponent was only one man, but he was no less terrifying, perhaps even more.

The gravel along the edges of the sacrificial altar was scattered by the wind, several pieces stopping upon meeting his shoes.

Shang Xingzhou looked at the Mausoleum of Zhou, a change finally noticeable on his expression.

"I do not know what you prepared here."

He said to Chen Changsheng, "But just like I said at the start, there are no miracles."

Chen Changsheng replied, "I thought that a person like Zhou Dufu appearing under the starry sky was a sort of miracle in itself."

No matter what sort of assessment people had of Zhou Dufu after his death, many people would agree with this view.

The strongest under the starry sky, someone who was truly unequalled throughout the world, had to be a miracle.

Shang Xingzhou was quiet for a time, and then he smiled.

"Do you know why Wang Zhice is willing to help me even though he does not like me?"

He looked at Chen Changsheng and asked, "And do you know why that generation of elders could fight and scheme against each other, betray and backstab each other, plot and conspire, yet when fighting an external enemy or pushed to the final point, they could put on a united will against the outsider?"

Chen Changsheng said, "Because you share common experiences."

Shang Xingzhou calmly replied, "Yes, because we once had a common enemy."

Chen Changsheng said, "In the past, I thought it was the demons."

Shang Xingzhou explained, "The existence of demons is naturally a reason to unite, but the more important reason was that person."

Chen Changsheng replied, "I don't quite understand."

Shang Xingzhou said, "Because that person let us clearly see ourselves and each other, allowing us to be frank with each other, to trust each other."

Chen Changsheng asked, "To clearly see just what you all wanted?"

Shang Xingzhou added, "At the same time, it let us clearly see how ugly our true thoughts were, because, in the end, that was still a most shameless affair."

Chen Changsheng understood, so he could only reply with silence.

Shang Xingzhou indifferently said, "You also killed a Zhou once, but compared to us, that was just a game."

Chen Changsheng had wanted to kill Zhou Tong.

Back then, those people had killed Zhou Dufu.

"If one said that he was a miracle, isn't our killing him the true miracle?"

Shang Xingzhou's eyes were so cold that it seemed like he was looking at a corpse.

Many years ago, they had even killed that person, much less Chen Changsheng.

The most famous and long-lived riddle of the last thousand years had finally been answered.

The theories of many people, the endless discussions of the tea houses and restaurants, had finally been confirmed.

This was unquestionably one of the deepest secrets of the world.

But Chen Changsheng was very calm.

He looked at Shang Xingzhou and asked, "How can you be so sure that he's actually dead?"

This place was Zhou Dufu's mausoleum.

He was standing in front of the gate to the mausoleum as he asked this question.

It felt like he was asking in place of the person within the mausoleum.

The cold winds rustled the gravel in the grasslands, making a sound that seemed like a voice aged by time.

Shang Xingzhou narrowed his eyes.