Evening Snow

An extremely talented disciple that does miscellaneous affairs appeared in Tai Yan Sect. He was born with a face that the general populace would fall for, had a lazy demeanour and became famous with just one battle.

Unfortunately, his body was weak. Without the use of heavenly herbs and earthen treasures to keep him alive, the path of cultivation he treaded would have ended long ago.

“He hasn’t even reached the Foundation Building stage, yet he can already release Sword Qi. He was born to wield a sword. What a shame, what a shame.” Is what everyone says, sighing and shaking their heads.

Zong Ci didn’t think much of it. The life he had now was picked up off the floor. He had once died to save the world. Being able to be reincarnated was a blessing from heaven he was thankful for. He was quite open-minded, never resenting anyone else, only wanting to live well

Zong Ci was living the salted fish lifestyle. He didn’t think that there were others who weren’t willing to leave him be.

The white moonlight in his heart that hated him, his cruel and treacherous shidi, his unscrupulous and unreasonable shizun…all of them rushed over to tear down his persona, the corner of their eyes suffused with insanity, hating the fact that they can’t dig out their own hearts and gift it to him.

Zong Ci: ???

Thinking about his terrible interpersonal relationships in his past life, the sudden influx of favour shocked him.

Zong Ci had always felt that he didn’t gain anything in his past life.

The teacher he studied under forsaked him, his siblings/close friends left him, his body died while his cultivation dissipated— His life had been a joke.

He never thought that those same people would stand before his grave, would fight their way into the Ghost City for him and fall into the Demonic Abyss in the process, seemingly having succumbed to madness and insanity.

He couldn’t even begin to think that there would also be someone, a single person, who would lay out the Divination Disc, divining for an entire night.

At Tian Ji Gate, heavy snow had covered both his shoulders. Yet, all the waiting amounted to was half a severed finger in an empty coffin.