Ninety years have passed in the passage of time.
The outside world is filled with brutal slaughter, devouring life like a millstone of flesh and blood.
It is always quiet here, a green-clothed youth and a white-dressed maiden practice in silence, the youth in cultivation, while the maiden watches him.
Her life flickers like a candle in the wind, nearing its end.
"Young Master,"
The white-dressed maiden speaks softly.
The youth finally stops his cultivation, opens his eyes, and looks at her quietly, bidding her a final farewell.
The woman's Divine Soul and body are already withered, soon to collapse completely, perhaps in the coming days, perhaps later; no one can tell.
"Young Master, how do you find my talent and ingenuity?"
Gong Caiyu asks.
"Ordinary."
"Ordinary?"
"You are indeed blunt, and I'm merely a dying person."
Gong Caiyu found it both laughable and frustrating.
No one responds.
The silence was profound.
"Young Master,"
"In truth, I am also a Heavenly Pride."
