“It seems your injuries have healed. Are you sure you want to leave?” Yuan Tiangang watched ‘Chen Yuan’ recover, the latter silently nodding.

After Wei Yuan unleashed that sword strike, most of his memories had entered a brief slumber, dissolving and mastering the profound mysteries of that sword. This caused his true spirit to become even heavier. Only at the end of this life could he be freed. Originally, he should have completely forgotten everything and died by the sword, but because Yuan Tiangang was an incarnation of Zhujiuyin, and because of Yuan Tiangang's special nature, he still remembered his agreement with Yuan Tiangang and charged into Chang'an City.

Zhujiuyin, in his reincarnation as Yuan Tiangang, recognized Wei Yuan's aura and destiny. He joined forces with Li Chunfeng and obtained Wu Zetian's consent to fake Wei Yuan's death, allowing him to escape the world. He also used half of the martial emperor Wu Zhou's fortune to shield Wei Yuan's destiny, preventing pursuit from the Turbid World and hostility from the Kunlun's Kai Ming. He even healed Wei Yuan's injuries, which took a great deal of effort, even for the reincarnation of the master of Zhuzhao Jiuyou.

“It's a pity that Li Chunfeng that fellow is asleep again, really. He can fall asleep even while drinking.” Yuan Tiangang glanced displeased at Li Chunfeng, who was not young but was still asleep with a wine gourd in his hand. The latter was always like this, everything would suddenly go dark.

He slept soundly, deeply, and sweetly, making people envious. Sometimes it felt like he wasn't sleeping, but traveling thousands of miles away in spirit.

"Never mind him. Both you and I already have white hair." Yuan Tiangang smiled. "I can still remember the way we met in the city decades ago. Hahaha, you weren't polite at all back then, punching me right in the eye socket, making me remember it for decades."

The already gray-haired Yuan Tiangang raised a pot of wine, tilted his head back, and drank, his smile gentle. “How about it? Want me to punch you in the eye socket?”

The amnesiac swordsman said without hesitation, "Impossible!"

Yuan Tiangang laughed loudly, finally regretting, "It's already like this, and you still won't allow it?"

"In short, you and I are already old. This time you leave, I'm afraid we really won't see each other again."

The swordsman Wei Yuan lowered his eyes, smiling. "That's easy. Perhaps there will be a next life."

Yuan Tiangang said, "But what good is a next life if you don't remember the past and don't recognize what happened before?"

The amnesiac Wei Yuan paused, a few fragments seeming to flash before his eyes. After a moment, those images dissipated.

Finally, he tilted his head back and drank, no longer caring. “That’s easy. When we first met, I punched your left eye socket.”

He pointed a finger, slurring slightly, "After we meet, I'll still punch you—once in the eye socket."

“This time, not the left side, the right side!” “To make it even!”

Yuan Tiangang was stunned, seemingly unable to believe that this guy dared to do this.

Then he just laughed and nodded.

“If there is a next life, if there is still a reunion.”

Yuan Tiangang's memories from this life had not yet recovered. He was also a cultivator, so he naturally knew that reincarnation was just comforting words. True spirits relied on their own condensation to resist the furnace of heaven and earth, and the gold and iron of the mortal world. To achieve reincarnation at that level was difficult and rare. These were just words of comfort between friends at parting. Looking at each other's pale faces and white hair, they no longer had the heart to fight. He casually nodded and said:

"Then I'll let you hit me once!"

“Don’t worry, we will definitely meet again.”

At this time, Li Chunfeng, who had woken up from his nap with the wine gourd, raised his head, a wisp of pure purple light fading from his eyes. He hiccuped, the hiccup carrying the scent of sweet wine, and said carelessly, "Don't regret it when you get a black eye then."

Yuan Tiangang couldn't help but sneer, "I'm not a fickle person like you."

“Ah, yes, yes, yes, everyone knows that Yuan Tiangang is upright, broad-minded, and never holds grudges."

“That’s true, never holds grudges!”

Li Chunfeng nodded repeatedly, holding the wine gourd.

Yuan Tiangang couldn't help but retort, "You don't need to worry about how I am."

“At worst, I’ll get punched again. It’s not like I haven’t been punched before!”

“It’s you who can fall asleep at any time. Be careful when you’re crossing the sea or fishing by the river.”

“And then fall headfirst into the water.”

“Fishing yourself up and becoming a drowned ghost.”

Li Chunfeng was furious:

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” Then he clapped his hands together, forming a hand seal,

and muttered:

"Ptooey, ptooey, children don't understand, children don't understand."

"Words can't be taken seriously, can't be taken seriously." Then he raised an eyebrow and glared at the white-haired Yuan Tiangang, angrily:

“You old coot, you’re cursing me again!”

“Are you sick or something? You’re the number one fortune teller in thousands of years!”

"What if your golden words and iron judgments come true?"

"What if I accidentally fall asleep while working and fall headfirst into the water and become a water ghost?" "Are you going to compensate me?!"

Yuan Tiangang sneered, drinking his wine, too lazy to deal with this lazy fellow. Finally, the good wine feast ended. The Tang Dynasty swordsman, now without a sword, the amnesiac Wei Yuan staggered, turning his back to Chang'an, waved goodbye to his friends, and left Chang'an City. Behind him, Li Chunfeng sat cross-legged on the eaves, reaching out to play with the bell hanging from the corner of the eaves, and said:

"With luck shielding him, this guy should be able to die peacefully, right?" Yuan Tiangang didn't turn his head back. "He held a sword his whole life and doesn't know how much killing he did. I hope he can grow old peacefully in the end. As for whether he dies peacefully…”

“If you think that forgetting all the experiences of his life at the end counts as dying peacefully, then, somewhat.”

Li Chunfeng looked at Chang'an City in the distance. "Knowing too much is never a good thing, Yuan Tiangang."

He lowered his eyes with a smile, the starlight of Ziwei shining in his eyes, emphasizing:

"Never."

The white-haired girl, Jue, finally arrived in Chang'an City, such a great city.

Then, coincidentally, they saw the white-haired swordsman stride out, wearing brocade clothes, riding a fast horse, his head full of white hair, but still full of spirit, like a sword sweeping away all the rust on it,

finally revealing its unparalleled sharpness. The white-haired girl's eyes widened slightly, a trace of light lighting up in her dark, lightless pupils, but her tone still had no fluctuation.

"You're back."

The swordsman riding the fast horse pulled on the reins, frowning, and replied:

"Who are you?"

The expectation on the white-haired girl's face solidified. Weren't you saying that we depended on each other for life and death in Kunlun Mountain? That I was once saved by her?

In a pavilion, the amnesiac Wei Yuan looked at the quiet white-haired girl, and then at his friend with the Bixie mask. Even with Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng sealing his fate with luck in the end, it was only like drawing water with a bamboo basket, only able to slightly slow down the speed of his memories falling asleep. But this process was irreversible.

The swordsman still remembered the things about this girl wearing the Bixie mask.

These were the ridiculous things he had done when he was young. He had proposed marriage the first time they met.

But he didn't remember anything about his experiences on Kunlun Mountain, or about this white-haired girl. However, looking at the white-haired girl with her head lowered, he inexplicably felt a kind of,

a kind of closeness and familiarity that seemed to come from the depths of his blood. He reached out and rubbed the top of the white-haired girl's head, saying freely, "I do feel like I've lost some memories."

"But I do feel like we should have some fate, it feels very familiar."

"Where are you going for a while?"

Jue looked at him deeply and said, "I will travel around for the time being."

The amnesiac Wei Yuan laughed loudly. "That's a coincidence. I'm going to continue traveling in the martial world afterwards." He patted the mount next to him and sighed, "When I was young, I only thought that with a sword in my hand, I was invincible, but because of that monk, I didn't even walk out of Chang'an City. Later, although I walked a not short road, it couldn't be considered traveling the martial world. Now it's good, without any worries."

“My lifespan is not long either.”

"It’s good to walk the same path as you in the end, I don’t regret knowing you."

Then he reached out to the white-haired girl and said with a smile, "If you don't mind, let's go together."

The girl with deep, lightless eyes reached out her hand.

The swordsman exerted strength in his palm, picked up the seemingly still young white-haired girl and placed her on the mount. With one hand pulling the reins and the other carrying fine wine, in the last years of the Tang Dynasty swordsman, he wandered the martial world like this, taking in two disciples, one surnamed Pei, who was the later Tang Dynasty Sword Saint, and the other a girl surnamed Gongsun. The Gongsun girl was insisted on by the white-haired girl.

Just because that child sang good ballads and had a soft waist, she could do Chang'an dances and Sogdian Whirl dances.

The white-haired girl seemed to like everything created by humans very much. The amnesiac swordsman couldn't resist her, so he had to agree, passing on some of the essence of swordsmanship. The Gongsun girl's foundation and strength were not as good as her senior brother, but her agility and quickness were better. She ingeniously incorporated swordsmanship into her dance, her sword dance moving in all directions. Along the way, they went east and north, once riding horses on the stone roads of Jiangnan, once singing loudly with swords in the desert outside the Great Wall.

The swordsman had only just stepped into the martial world, but he had already stirred up the entire world of the Tang Dynasty.

Although it was only ten years, it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

Martial world disciples grow old in the martial world, especially since he was already an old man with a pale face and white hair. His memory eventually gradually dissipated. In the end, he was no longer able to walk in the martial world. Occasionally, he would not even recognize the white-haired girl and his friend with the Bixie mask. At this time, even Jue knew that he could no longer be allowed to walk in the martial world like this. Finally, the old man with a pale face and white hair settled down in a village at the foot of a mountain.

His name was illustrious, shaking the world.

Even after coming here to live in seclusion, swordsmen from all over the world would often come to visit. In the beginning, the swordsman would take the initiative to make a move, but later, his disciple began to intercept these opponents in place of his teacher. The old man was pale and old, every inch of his beard and hair completely white. As for the Huan with the Bixie mask, he was gradually unable to suppress the turbid energy.

In order to prevent his own authority from being reversed,

to prevent himself from unconsciously changing his temperament drastically, like his sister, giving birth to the authority of [Red Land Thousand Miles], causing harm to the world, he took the initiative to leave the crowd.

The disciple Pei Man also took the initiative to leave the mountain to challenge the past in order to prevent the swordsmen from disturbing his teacher's quiet cultivation. When he had the title of Sword Saint, the swordsmen of the world said that he had surpassed his teacher, so they all began to challenge him, and respectfully called the old man, who was always calm and serene, "Master." The Master mostly just sat quietly on the bluestone, sometimes not saying a word all day.

Originally, he took care of the white-haired girl who had no common sense about the world.

Later, Sword Saint Pei Man left, Jue had to leave the mortal world, and the swordsman lost his memory. Instead, the girl was taking care of him.

Until that day, when he no longer recognized even his sword, as the common people cried out in surprise.

It was finally time for his life to end. The white-haired girl brought the cooked meat porridge. The swordsman leaned against the bed, his breath weak, his expression peaceful and calm. He was old and white-haired, with many wrinkles on his face.

Forgetting the sword.

The first forgetting was violent, decisive, a tragic giving up of everything in exchange for the power to kill.

But now the forgetting was as peaceful and calm as flowing water, deep and quiet, proof of truly mastering this sword.

The weak old man opened his eyes, saw the white-haired girl next to him, lowered his eyes. Although he had forgotten everything, it seemed that because of some predestined fate, he still remembered the girl in front of him, and was most worried about her. There was an arrangement written on a piece of white paper next to him, which he had written down when he realized he was losing his memory.

There was Pei, there was Gongsun.

There was Jue.

There was going to Chang'an in the Tang Dynasty to find past friends. Densely packed. Before his final passing, the Tang Dynasty swordsman recorded everything he could think of, hoping that the white-haired girl, who did not have much common sense, could live peacefully in the human world after he left. Finally, he reached out and rubbed the girl's white hair, saying, "Live well."

"Be a good child."

Even the invincible swordsman was like an ordinary old man, his voice gentle, saying:

“Otherwise, I might become a fierce ghost to teach you a lesson.”

After saying that, he found it funny himself, and laughed lightly with a bit of self-deprecation.

The white-haired girl's dark eyes were large, her palms gently holding the swordsman's wrinkled hands. Her tone was still without waves, but it was unknown whether it was an illusion, but her lips seemed to carry a quiet smile. "Then, if I become a bad child." "Can you come back to see me?"

The swordsman opened his mouth, lowered his eyes, and said no more.