Looking at the familiar face in front of him, Zhang Daowen's lips trembled slightly.
Even someone like him had, more than once, doubted the truth that Wei Wei had told him back then.
After the failed attempt to save Qi-shu, Wei Wei had taken him to her private lab, where she revealed a secret to him.
She said Feng Qi had the ability to traverse time, and even in death, he would return in the future—1,500 years later.
When he first heard those words, his immediate reaction was disbelief.
After all, having fought on the frontlines of Star City's western supply zone for over a hundred years, he'd seen his fair share of bizarre domain fields and various species with strange innate talents.
He prided himself on his knowledge and experience. Yet, even so, he had never heard of anything like "time travel."
In his understanding, death meant the end. Once life faded away, there was no coming back—let alone suddenly returning in the future, completely alive.
And this so-called resurrection wasn't even the kind that used external help, like "reincarnating through another body." It was a sudden revival without any outside support.
That kind of ability went far beyond everything he had ever learned.
Because of that, he had often wondered if it had all just been a well-meaning lie spun by Grandma Wei Wei—something meant to help him let go of his hatred for the moment and instead use that pain to push himself forward and grow stronger.
After all, at the time, he stood no chance against Jian Ji.
As the years passed, he grew older. He gained more knowledge, learned more about the world, and with that growth, he gradually stopped expecting Qi-shu's return.
Because by then, he had already accepted that what Grandma Wei Wei and Uncle Mist said back then were just comforting lies, never meant to be taken literally.
But now, the very scene he once thought could only happen in dreams had become reality.
Everything before him felt like a dream. That figure he had longed for had reappeared.
Qi-shu was standing right in front of him, alive.
And this version of Qi-shu didn't look like the frail old man he had seen at the end of his life.
No—this was the Qi-shu from his childhood memories. Even the smile on his face was the exact same as the one he remembered.
Countless memories rushed through his mind uncontrollably.
From as far back as he could remember, he had grown up under Qi-shu's guidance. His understanding of the world had also expanded thanks to Qi-shu's teachings.
The joys and hardships of childhood training—all of them were closely tied to the smiling figure by his side.
Even after childhood passed, Qi-shu remained his mentor through every stage of growth.
He still remembered the first time he went to the frontlines. Facing the brutal reality of war, and especially when comrades died right beside him, he had felt completely lost and powerless. Fear and doubt overwhelmed him.
The moment he returned to the front supply zone, the first thing he did was call Qi-shu.
That feeling—it was just like a child who'd been bullied outside, calling a parent for comfort. Depending on Qi-shu had already become a habit carved into his instincts.
On that call, Qi-shu had patiently talked him through the pain and got him through that mental storm.
There were countless times like that.
Every time he faced hardship or had mental blocks he couldn't untangle, Qi-shu was the one he turned to.
No matter how much frustration or pain came from life on the frontlines, Qi-shu was always the antidote.
As he matured, his understanding of the world deepened. But his feelings toward Qi-shu never changed. If anything, they only deepened with time and understanding.
Until that day—when this towering figure finally fell in Winterfell City.
That moment had filled his heart with rage and hatred.
He still hadn't had the chance to use the special medicine he developed for Qi-shu, and Qi-shu had already left this world.
The promise he once made—that he'd care for Qi-shu in old age—shattered the moment Qi-shu passed.
From that moment on, he swore he would get revenge.
After the period of mourning for Qi-shu ended, he began intense training to grow stronger.
Back then, he only had one goal.
Whether what Wei Wei said was true or false—since he could no longer care for Qi-shu in life—he would use the blood of his enemies to honor him in death.
"Xiao Wen."
Feng Qi's voice snapped him out of those flooding memories. Zhang Daowen looked up at Feng Qi, eyes suddenly reddened.
"Ancestor…"
Seeing their revered Ancestor trembling, the warriors beside him looked confused.
They followed the Ancestor's gaze toward Feng Qi, then recalled what was said during the earlier battle. One of the warriors' mouths fell open slightly, and a shocking realization surfaced in his mind.
He had read about the historical figure Feng Qi in some old texts. There were a few stories about the Ancestor and that legendary hero.
If even their Ancestor—who remained calm facing the strongest domain enemies—was this shaken, then the true identity of this intruder was all but certain.
"Ancestor…"
Before the warrior could say anything, Zhang Daowen quietly said:
"Take them and leave. I have something I want to say to… him."
After a brief hesitation, the warrior nodded respectfully, then waved his hand toward the distance.
The gathered crowd quickly began to disperse.
Zhang Daowen floated over to Feng Qi, opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say something—but the words wouldn't come out.
All the thoughts in his heart condensed into a single, choking whisper:
"Qi-shu…"
"Xiao Wen, you've been through a lot these years." Feng Qi reached out with his right hand and gave Zhang Daowen a firm pat on the shoulder.
The moment felt like time had frozen—white-haired Zhang Daowen and the youthful Feng Qi stared at each other, and finally, smiles emerged on both their faces.
"Qi-shu, I have so much I want to tell you."
Facing Feng Qi, this revered Ancestor of the human race, always commanding respect without needing to show anger, now smiled warmly. The pressure he naturally exuded disappeared.
"Perfect. I also have a lot of questions to ask you."
...
Under the blood-red dusk, Feng Qi and Zhang Daowen sat atop the hundred-meter-high statue of Feng Qi at the center of Dawn City. Zhang Daowen softly recounted everything that had happened in Star City after Feng Qi left.
For Feng Qi, the last time he had seen Zhang Daowen was just before he set off for Winterfell City.
To him, only a few days had passed.
But for Zhang Daowen, it had been a grueling 1,500-year wait.
During that time, he had gone through countless hardships. Leading the rise of humanity had been a process filled with pain and difficulty.
Yet, all that suffering had been buried deep in his heart. He never let the younger generations of humanity see it.
He bore the weight of the human banner, and he knew he couldn't show weakness before his people. He had to give them unshakable confidence.
But in front of Feng Qi, Zhang Daowen let go of all his defenses and pretenses. Just like the old days, he vented and shared everything he'd been through.
Feng Qi sat quietly, smiling as he listened, like a longtime confidant simply there to listen.
Zhang Daowen then spoke of his first act of vengeance at Winterfell City, when he and the Mist Lord had gone together.
Wei Wei had written in a message that Zhang Daowen had suffered a crushing defeat in that battle, and it was only thanks to the Mist Lord's intervention that he survived and was brought back.
But in Zhang Daowen's version, there were far more details.
When he spoke of seeing Mu Qing's body at Winterfell City, Feng Qi's pupils shrank sharply.
"You saw Mu Qing?"
"Yeah… by then, she was already dead."
As the words left his mouth, Zhang Daowen raised his hand. A swirl of blue mist spread out, eventually forming a mirrored screen made of imagery.
When the fog dissipated, it revealed a scene from Winterfell City.
The city in the image had been reduced to rubble. At the center of the ruins stood a tall flagpole. Mu Qing's lifeless body had been impaled on it, hanging from the top of the flag like a broken banner.
The moment Feng Qi saw this, rage exploded inside him like wildfire.
"Is Jian Ji still alive?"
"With help from Uncle Mist… I personally killed Jian Ji…"
As Zhang Daowen recounted the events, Feng Qi slowly pieced together what had happened back then.
After the battle at Winterfell City, Zhang Daowen had suffered a crushing defeat. The burning desire for vengeance inside him became the drive for his recovery and growth.
In the time that followed, he devoted nearly all his effort to training.
To further unlock his strength, he pushed the limits of his bloodline and continuously refined his own cultivation techniques. His rate of progress during that period skyrocketed.
Meanwhile, the Sword Clan began probing attacks on Star City, eventually escalating to a full-scale invasion.
Thanks to the help of the Mist Tribe, Star City fought back against the Sword Clan.
Facing the powerful Jian Ji of that time, even with the Mist Tribe's support, it was still an uphill battle.
Just as it seemed Star City was about to be completely overrun, the Demon Blade reappeared.
It was that appearance that gave them a brief chance to breathe.
In the fight with the Demon Blade, Jian Ji suffered heavy injuries. Though he managed to force the Demon Blade to retreat, he no longer had the strength to pursue Star City further.
During that window of time, Zhang Daowen and the Mist Lord launched a planned assassination mission against the Sword Clan.
That operation nearly wiped out the Sword Clan, leaving Jian Ji as the sole survivor.
But without his clan to hold him back, Jian Ji became even more terrifying.
With no one left to worry about, his attacks on Star City grew more frenzied, appearing again and again and causing devastating losses.
It was during this dark period that Star City began its slow decline.
Even the Mist Tribe was dragged down by Star City's burden, having to dispatch troops repeatedly to fend off Jian Ji's raids.
This miserable stalemate dragged on for over a hundred years.
Eventually, the Mist Lord made a choice—to sacrifice himself for the future of both their races.
A massive trap to kill Jian Ji was carefully laid out.
The final outcome: the Mist Lord perished in battle, and Zhang Daowen killed a heavily wounded Jian Ji with his own hands.
Although the humans and the Mist Tribe claimed ultimate victory, it came at an enormous cost.
Star City was nearly leveled. More than half of its warriors were dead or wounded. The collateral damage extended to countless innocent civilians.
In the aftermath, the Mist Tribe took the Miracle Will Orb and retreated to rebuild and prepare for their leader's eventual resurrection.
Meanwhile, Zhang Daowen led the surviving humans to relocate to Dawn City.
Dawn City was far smaller than Star City, but that made it easier to defend. As the new home of humanity, it was built with a more advanced defensive system and a subterranean refuge beneath it.
In the years that followed, the little guy led humanity through countless conflicts with other races.
During that period, humanity experienced rapid development. Their overall strength steadily rose.
Until Mo Yue appeared... and slowly began devouring the sun.
This process was filled with hopelessness for both humanity and Zhang Daowen. They could only watch helplessly as the human world withered away—powerless to stop it.
Especially that final battle between Mu Yan and Mo Yue.
The domain beast tide, vast enough to blot out the sky, surged across space. Humanity had no choice but to huddle inside Dawn City, trembling, unsure if tomorrow would ever come.
And when Mu Yan fell, the entire human cultivation system collapsed along with him.
It was at that moment that the little guy began designing a new cultivation path tailored specifically for humanity.
The newly created ice-element cultivation method wasn't truly compatible with humans, yet in this world now bathed in the light of Mo Yue, it became the only method of growth left.
As for the Mist Tribe, after the Mist Lord's death, they lost contact completely.
Dawn City had never managed to construct a stable spatial tunnel to connect with them. The only stable spatial transmission array still remained amidst the ruins of Star City.
The little guy had tried to repair it, but he soon discovered that even if it could be restored, the connection to the other end had already been severed.
His guess was that either the Mist Tribe had relocated... or they'd been wiped out by some powerful invading race.
...
As the little guy spoke of the past, he stared out into the dim, yellowed sky, his eyes filled with memories.
Feng Qi sat beside him quietly, just listening.
He could feel the bitterness and exhaustion that came with leading humanity's rise.
After Feng Qi's departure, the new generation of Star City's leadership carried the Dawn banner forward. And after their time had passed, it was the little guy who shouldered that banner—until today.
Humans were weak. Whether in terms of bloodline potential or cultivation techniques, they couldn't compare to the powerful races of the domain.
It was almost single-handedly the little guy who pushed humanity's progress forward, standing against thousands of incoming threats.
That's why people of the future honored him as the Ancestor. And why he had become the unshakable pillar in their hearts.
"Xiao Wen… thank you. Truly." Feng Qi finally expressed his heartfelt gratitude.
"Qi-shu… I'm old now. I probably won't last much longer."
At those words, Feng Qi fell silent.
From what the little guy had told him, over these past 1,000+ years, he had fought against many powerful enemies. In his quest for survival and resources, he had even launched attacks on other races. After countless battles, his body was left with many hidden injuries.
That he had survived this long... was already a miracle. He was now at the edge of his limit, like a dying flame flickering in the wind—wanting to keep burning, but no longer able to.
When Zhang Daowen said "I'm old now," Feng Qi saw exhaustion and unwillingness in his eyes.
"I failed your expectations. I couldn't lead humanity to the peak."
As he spoke, Zhang Daowen's aged voice suddenly trembled. Tears shimmered in his cloudy blue eyes.
Feng Qi didn't know how to comfort him.
To Zhang Daowen now, protecting humanity was no longer just a duty. Leading humanity's rise was no longer merely about fulfilling Feng Qi's legacy—it had become his own dream, his own hope.
Even the immortal tortoise must eventually die.
At this moment, the little guy was like a candle in the wind, barely holding on—no longer able to guide humanity forward.
If they lost Zhang Daowen, humanity would lose its guardian god.
And in this brutal new world, surrounded by enemies, there would be no way out for humans. All future struggles would become little more than the last twitching of a dying civilization—until total extinction came.
Feng Qi understood the little guy's unwillingness. But he had no promises to offer... no words that could bring real comfort.
Just then, with tears in his eyes, Zhang Daowen turned and looked at him.
"Qi-shu, your negative emotion accumulation effect... it must be getting worse, right?"
Faced with the question, Feng Qi nodded.
"After finishing the memory download of this timeline... the cumulative influence of those negative emotions is already taking effect on my body."
As he spoke, Feng Qi raised his right arm.
Dark black markings had appeared along his arm, stretching from his palm all the way up toward his shoulder.
Zhang Daowen nodded at the sight.
"Uncle Mist once told me he took you to the Heart Refinement Platform of the Blood Soul Clan in a previous timeline. At the time, I thought he and Grandma Wei Wei were still working together to feed me comforting lies…"
"But now I'm certain. I know where the Blood Soul Clan's territory is. Maybe I can take you there to go through the Heart Refinement Trial again. It won't completely get rid of the negative emotions... but it might help delay their accumulation."
"Alright." Feng Qi nodded without hesitation.
Zhang Daowen grabbed Feng Qi's shoulder, then reached out and pushed forward.
Instantly, icy mist surged from his body and swept forward, tearing open a space rift in front of them.
Gripping Feng Qi's shoulder tightly, Zhang Daowen stepped forward with him—into the spatial passage.