“No, I didn’t,” he replied calmly.
“I did,” she said, looking him in the eyes.
Meng Hao didn’t respond.
Chu Yuyan stared back out at the Dao Lake, her expression one of bitterness. Several hours passed, and she finally stood up and began to walk back toward the Violet Fate Sect. After seven steps, she stopped.
“If there was no Xu Qing…?”
“No ‘ifs,’” Meng Hao replied softly.
“But why?”
“The opportunity was missed. What’s done is done.”
Chu Yuyan trembled, and then left Meng Hao’s Dao Lake and returned to the Violet Fate Sect, tears streaming down her face.
Hanxue Shan came to see Meng Hao, innocent and making no attempts conceal her lingering feelings for him.
Fatty came, carrying a wild chicken. Meng Hao glanced at it, then summoned flames. The two of them sat next to the Dao Lake for a long time, eating wild chicken while everyone around watched on.
Fatty laughed and filed away at his teeth with a sword. In the end, he pulled Meng Hao into a bear hug and then left.
An Zaihai and Lin Hailong both came. Sighing, they recounted past times, although they avoided mentioning Grandmaster Pill Demon. They were well aware that to Meng Hao, the most important person in the Violet Fate Sect… was his Master.
Ye Feimu didn’t come. The last person from the Violet Fate Sect to come was an old man. His Cultivation base was not very high, but as soon as he neared, Meng Hao’s face broke out into a smile.
“Bai Yunlai.”
“Fang… Meng Hao.” The old man inadvertently started to call Meng Hao by the name Fang Mu.
People came from the Song Clan, the Golden Frost Sect, and the Solitary Sword Sect. Earlier they had faced off with hostility, but now they came to chat. These were people of the same generation as Meng Hao in the Southern Domain, Dao Children and Chosen, the most powerful of whom were merely in the Nascent Soul stage.
When they saw Meng Hao, the couldn’t help but think of all the things that had happened in the past. Meng Hao didn’t see Li Tiandao of the Li Clan, who hadn’t come to the Dao Lakes this time. 2
As far as Wang Lihai, and that figure who existed deep in his memories, Wang Tengfei, after the genocide of the Wang Clan carried out by their 10th Patriarch, Meng Hao wasn’t sure if they were even still alive.
There was one person who Meng Hao hadn’t seen at all since returning to the Southern Domain, and that was Han Bei. Han Bei of the Black Sieve Sect.
The last person to come visit was Chen Fan. He looked older than before, and hadn’t reached the Nascent Soul stage yet. His body was somewhat emaciated, which sharply contrasted with the Chen Fan that Meng Hao remembered.
It seemed that many matters of the heart had built up in him during the past centuries, and had reached the point that they were suffocating him.
He didn’t say much at first, and he brought a flagon of alcohol with him, which he drank from continuously. It was hard to say when, but at some point, he had begun to drink on a daily basis. It had reached the point where he didn’t just need to drink, he needed to get drunk.
He was no longer the blazing sun that he had been in past years, nor was he one of the Seven Swords. One fellow sect member after another had surpassed him, and his dreams of rising up within the Solitary Sword Sect had not come true.
However, he still smiled. He smiled at Meng Hao, and it contained the same warmth it always had, the same concern and love.
“Elder Brother Chen….” said Meng Hao, looking him over. Every time he saw his old friends, he couldn’t help but think of the Reliance Sect.
“Make sure to focus well on your cultivation,” said Chen Fan. “If you ever reach Immortal Ascension, then I can boast to people that I have a little brother who’s an Immortal.” He chuckled, and clapped Meng Hao on the shoulder. Then he took a long swig of alcohol and headed back toward the Solitary Sword Sect.
Meng Hao could clearly see the scorn with which many of the Solitary Sword Sect disciples looked at Chen Fan.