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The tent was deadly silent. The young man looked at the hunting knife on the ground silently. His face was clear of any emotions. After a long while, he seemed to have recalled something, and a dim brightness returned to his eyes.

He propped himself up with difficulty and looked at the Desolate Man father and son. He allowed his usual strict and sacred expression to return to his face and said seriously, "So, ambushing someone isn’t very interesting after all."

He said the ludicrous statement seriously and sternly. His tone was like how it had been for the past ten years. It was calm and warm, coupled with pride and indifference from being of a high status.

However, he was no longer the beautiful god-like creature of the West-Hill, but a filthy vagabond. The look was dissonant and ridiculous on his face.

The Desolate Man father and son found him funny, but did not laugh. The Desolate Man boy picked up the hunting knife from the ground and walked up to him, wanting to cut off his head like how he would cut off the head of a wild beast in the Snow Mountain.

The noble young man who had ended up in the Wilderness finally felt death looming upon him when he saw the nearing hunting knife. It was the same feeling he had when he felt that arrow impaling him on the snow cliff.

He was no stranger to this feeling. He had spent the first half of his life before a fire pit and had watched the fear and grief of numerous prisoners in the prison. It was just that he had never associated the emotion with himself.

The young man from the Central Plains was not afraid of death. At least, he thought that he wasn’t. But he did not want to die at the hands of a boy from the Desolate Man tribe. This death was too ludicrous and not befitting of his station.

He did not die, because the father had stopped his son.

The father shook his head at the son and lectured, "Since we Desolate Man have saved him, there is no reason why we should kill him. Furthermore, it is obvious that this young man from the Central Plains is brain damaged. It is not auspicious to kill a lunatic."

The Desolate Man boy asked, "What shall we do? We can’t keep a lunatic around."

The Desolate Man father explained, "Since he wants to kill us, we can’t keep him around anymore. Let’s throw him out to fend for himself. Yama will decide his fate. This would be fair."

It was extremely cold in the tent with the whistling wind. The young man was severely injured and was on the verge of dying. He would die within moments without the warmth of the tent and bonfire.

The Desolate Man father knew this very well. But no matter how compassionate the Desolate Man were, they were not dumb. The father brought the young man out like how one would carry chickens, and tossed him into a pile of snow.

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The young man, was Prince Long Qing.

He had been shot by Ning Que’s Primordial Thirteen Arrow when he was on the verge of breaking the Knowing Destiny State on that snow cliff of the Tianqi Mountains. He had almost died from it, but what was even more serious, was that it had destroyed his cultivation states and confidence. History had proven that there were dire consequences if one was disturbed by anything when breaking the realm. They would experience a backlash from the Qi of Heaven and Earth.

Ning Que’s Primordial Thirteen Arrows were no ordinary objects or evil. Their impact on Prince Long Qing was not just the backlash from the Qi of Heaven and Earth. The single arrow had resulted in him not being able to cultivate for the rest of his life. In simpler terms, he had become a pile of useless firewood from a cultivation powerhouse about to enter the Knowing Destiny State.

There were people who were alive, but already dead. They lived in a despair that was worse than death.

Prince Long Qing who was on the snow cliff that day had been someone like that. When the Tao Addict had pulled him back from the edge of death, he had fallen from the snow cliff like a zombie and made his way to the northern Wilderness woodenly.

The reason for his heading to the north was because the dark night was longer there. Prince Long Qing felt that the light of Haotian had abandoned him, and chose to die in the dark. This way, he wouldn’t dirty the eyes of Haotian.

It was freezing cold and snow fell from above. He felt that he would become a corpse in the snow any minute now. However, it could be due to the pure aura that Ye Hongyu had infused into him, or the pill from the Zhishou Abbey, but he did not fall. Instead, he walked in pain for many days before losing consciousness in the valleys.

He would have become a corpse in the snow of the northern Tianqi Mountain foot should nothing have happened. The pure aura in his body would dissipate and the effects of the pill would fade. Nobody would discover his death even a thousand years later when the ice melts to reveal the frozen body. Would anyone remember a man called Prince Long Qing who had existed thousands of years ago?

Prince Long Qing felt just as lost after being rescued by the Desolate Man father and son. However, his thought on seeking death had faded. Anyone who had experienced a struggle between life and death would feel a stronger attraction to the human realm.

He felt goodwill towards the Desolate Man father and son who had saved him. However, hatred for the Devil’s Doctrine and contempt for the Desolate Man was deeply ingrained within him. The more gratitude he felt, the more painful he felt as well. He had finally decided to attack the Desolate Man duo after a long contemplation and say what he hadn’t had a chance to say.

"I forgive you for your sins on behalf of Haotian."

Prince Long Qing’s mind and logic were scrambled. He hung in a state suspended between life and death, between light and darkness, between gratitude and hatred, between a glorious memory and a pathetic existence. And it was precisely because of this, he had made an inexplicable decision.

Prince Long Qing finally sobered up after he was thrown out of the tent. He remembered many things. He was no longer the West-Hill son of the heavens who held peach blossoms in his hands. He was no longer the Prince of the Yan Kingdom who had led a sheltered life. He no longer had the right to shoulder the hope of reviving the Yan Kingdom. He was just a useless piece of cultivation firewood whose Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi had been destroyed.

He lay in the icy cold pile of snow as images of the past flashed through his mind. He did not know if it was because of the cold or the images, but his body stiffened up, and his gaunt and dirty face paled even further. The light in his eyes dimmed.

The once Prince Long Qing had become a down and out beggar. He awaited death in the desolate snow plains quietly. It was luck, or not, depending on how one saw it. Yama who controlled the darkness and death seemed to hate the faint light emitting from the beggar and refused to place a sweet kiss on him.

Prince Long Qing sat there until dawn arrived. His eyelashes fluttered, and the snow that had gathered on it fell together with the lashes. He looked at his chest, and discovered that he was not dead. Then, he stood up slowly and continued his journey towards the far-off north that was still shrouded in darkness.

His expensive outer coat finally gave way under the snow and cold wind. They fell off his body in tatters. The royal bright yellow had long faded. What was left on his body, were just body-hugging under robes. It was splattered with black blood and mud stains. It was so dirty one could not make out if it was blood or mud.

The blazing sun shone on the top of his head at noon. However, he did not feel the heat at all, as if he was living in a false existence. He raised his head weakly to look at the sky and squinted with difficulty before moving forward with all the strength in his body. There was an odd feeling where his foot landed. When he looked down, he realized that his shoes had torn and a shard of ice had wedged deeply in the sole of his foot. However, he could no longer feel pain.

Prince Long Qing trudged on weakly with a thin shirt on his back, naked soles, and a severely injured body. He did not know where he was headed but followed his instincts. He had no destination in mind, but he walked towards the north where the darkness seduced him like how the light once had.

He had walked for an unknown period of time. However, he was weak and walked slowly, so he did not know how much land he had covered. He did not feel hunger nor pain. The desires of humans had faded when they encountered hopelessness and death. He had to continue walking towards the north, and while he did not have to eat, he had to prop his weak body up. He broke a tree branch and used it as a cane.

It was difficult for trees to survive in the Far North of the Wilderness. There were no strong tree branches, and the thin one that bore his weight as he walked on for a few thousand feet broke into pieces. He fell heavily to the ground, and old blood that was grey in color spilled from his lips. He clambered up with difficulty and gazed at the far and endless Wilderness woodenly. He sighed softly and sat down.

He did not know how many days he had walked for and how many miles he had covered, and yet, he did not find death. He did not make it to the dark north either. He felt a trace of regret as he looked at the sky. The orange in the sky was quickly replaced by the dark night.

He sat in the cold Wilderness for an entire night. And when the day arrived, the first ray of sun touched the snow plains and his lightly shuttered eyelids. He had lost his eyelashes and the skin on his eyelids looked exceptionally shiny.

"It still turned into day in the end." He looked at the first ray of light from the east and muttered hoarsely, "It’d be great if it never turned light again. Why do I fear the light so much now?"

The frantic clomping of hooves could be heard approaching from the south.

Prince Long Qing looked towards the east dazedly, ignoring the sound approaching his back.

The sound of cluttering hooves approached. Lu Chenjia leapt off from the back of the Snow Horse and rushed at him from a distance. Then, she knelt down slowly before pulling him into an embrace.

The Snow Horse swayed and almost fell onto the snow plains. It had cantered for thousands of miles without resting at all. No matter how strong she had been, she was at his weakest state at this moment.

Lu Chenjia embraced him lightly, touching his face with hers. She did not dare to hug him tightly, but was unwilling to let go, as if afraid that the man she loved dearly would disappear if she did and walk towards the darkness.

A smile finally appeared on Prince Long Qing’s face after many days. He looked at the rays of light from the east and took in the scent of the person beside him. He said hoarsely, "Don’t you feel like you’re hugging a corpse?"

Lu Chenjia lowered her head and grinned, "If you would turn around to look at me, you’ll find that I’m very ugly right now too."

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