Hua Caili's soul was jolted by an overwhelming shock, and in that instant, she broke free from the influence of the "Tribulation Spirit" and returned to her body.
But the scene that greeted her eyes was unbearable.
The man she loved had perished right before her—and not even a trace of his body remained.
At that moment, Hua Caili seemed to hear the sound of her own heart breaking—so clear, so crisp, like a bell shattering in the cold. The echo of that soul-rending sound lingered in her chest, refusing to fade.
Everything that had just happened felt like a dream—until it shattered, turning into countless sharp shards that pierced straight into her heart like needles.
Not long ago, they had met again in the Sea of Mist. They had professed their love, found each other, relied on each other, cherished each other... In that boundless fog, they had created memories of warmth and beauty.
But now, grief surged like an unstoppable tide, drowning Hua Caili completely.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream.
But no sound came out.
When sorrow reaches its peak, it strips away all words, all senses, all sound—leaving behind only an empty, helpless heart, spiraling out of control.
There are many forms of pain in this world, yet none could begin to describe the anguish flooding Hua Caili's soul in this moment.
Meng Kongchan, too, was consumed by sorrow. The once-proud God of Dreamlessness now stood like a lifeless husk—withered face, greying hair. He was no longer a high and mighty deity, but simply a grieving father who had just lost his son.
For Meng Kongchan, the most unbearable pain in life was the loss of his child. But if anything surpassed that agony, it was the pain of regaining and then losing that child once more.
Meng Jianyuan had become his everything, as vital as his own life.
When his son unexpectedly returned, Meng Kongchan had secretly vowed—no matter what, he would never allow Jianyuan to be harmed again. Even if it cost him his life, he would protect him.
He never imagined that this second loss would come so swiftly, piercing through his heart and soul without mercy.
He recalled the uneasy tremors in his heart back in the Pure Land's inner sanctum. If only he had been more resolute—if he had ignored Emperor Yuan's orders and rushed to the Sea of Mist... Maybe things could've been different.
But now it was too late.
Tears streamed down Meng Kongchan's face.
He could clearly feel the spirit ring he had given Yun Che shatter.
A piece of his own soul had been embedded in that ring. When it broke under the blinding silver light, he experienced firsthand the excruciating sensation of soul-tearing agony.
The final memory left in the ring was not just the blinding silver light—but also the face of Dian Jiuzhi, twisted in evil glee, reflected within it.
"Dian Jiuzhi!!!"
The wrath of a god needs no explanation. A true god stands as the sovereign of this world—looking down on all creation.
Dian Jiuzhi had noticed the change. What he hadn't expected—what truly struck fear into his heart—was that the God of Dreamlessness had appeared in the Sea of Mist personally.
And worse still—he had witnessed Yun Che's death with his own eyes.
There was no longer any room for excuse or escape.
Even if he tried to explain now, his words would be meaningless.
But Dian Jiuzhi didn't sit idly by.
As soon as he retreated from the abyss where death had nearly claimed him, he retrieved a brilliant, rune-engraved spirit bead. An ancient, weighty aura radiated from it, enveloping him completely.
"Seven-Colored Hunyuan Pearl, activate!"
A radiant, multicolored barrier emerged, shielding Dian Jiuzhi entirely. It blocked the furious attacks from the enraged God of Dreamlessness.
This was a life-saving treasure gifted to him by Lord Jueluo—an ancient divine artifact bestowed personally by Emperor Yuan. Only one existed in the entire world.
Once activated, not even a true god could break through its defenses. However, it would only last for half an hour.
Meanwhile, back in the Pure Land's inner hall, Dian Luohou had been watching events unfold with composure—until he saw the celestial star representing Dian Jiuzhi fall. His expression darkened.
He never expected that Jiuzhi would encounter such danger in the Sea of Mist.
But he didn't panic. Instead, he frowned slightly, sensing that Jiuzhi had used the Seven-Colored Hunyuan Pearl. A sliver of Dian Luohou's soul was branded into it, allowing him to detect its activation immediately.
"Jiuzhi... actually encountered a life-and-death crisis?" he murmured in disbelief.
Dian Jiuzhi was the first-born son of the Abyss and possessed power that far surpassed anyone in his generation.
But the soul's perception did not lie.
Without hesitation, Dian Luohou left the Pure Land's inner hall. He had to arrive within thirty minutes—otherwise, Jiuzhi would die.
Back in the Sea of Mist, Meng Kongchan unleashed his divine wrath.
Strike after strike crashed into the barrier protecting Dian Jiuzhi—attacks of unimaginable might, unleashed without restraint. But the shield stood firm like a mountain, unmoved by storm or fury.
The God of Dreamlessness possessed a soul of terrifying strength. He scoured the Sea of Mist desperately, trying to detect any lingering trace of Yun Che's presence.
But he found nothing.
No trace of his aura. No hint of life.
Inside the barrier, Dian Jiuzhi finally understood what true power meant. Trembling, he felt like a helpless lamb before a sovereign god.
Suddenly—
"Uncle Meng, please stop," Hua Caili said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
Her voice was cold. Her presence even colder—like ice deep from the abyss.
She had changed in an instant.
No longer the carefree, innocent, kind-hearted Caili, but a soul hollowed by grief—mourning the one she loved, drenched in despair.
Her sorrow filled every inch of her being.
"Dian Jiuzhi! I will never forgive you in this life. I swear—as long as I live, I will cultivate with everything I have. And one day, I will kill you... to avenge my brother Yun!"
Her voice pierced the air like a blade.
Every word stabbed into Dian Jiuzhi like barbed thorns, becoming a demonic echo that tore through his mind and body.
She had once filled his heart—but now, she turned and walked away without looking back.
He reached out instinctively, but caught only air. He collapsed to the ground.
He tried to call out to her—but no sound came, as though an invisible hand clutched his throat.
And then—
Yun Che appeared beside him, silent.
There was a mocking smile on his face, as if to say: Even in death, you're a loser. Caili will never be yours. She will only hate you—and one day, she'll rip you apart.
"Stop talking! STOP TALKING!" Dian Jiuzhi clutched his head and screamed, writhing in torment.
Killing Yun Che brought him no joy. Only bottomless, endless regret.
Once, Dian Jiuzhi had been calm and composed. Nothing fazed him—except Hua Caili.
But Yun Che had unraveled him piece by piece. At first, Dian Jiuzhi had reminded himself to be patient—to endure.
But Yun Che crossed every line, again and again.
And when it came to Hua Caili—his most untouchable weakness—how could he possibly remain calm?
Eventually, his heart broke.
His emotions spiraled into chaos.
His defenses collapsed.
And hatred consumed him entirely.
Now, Hua Caili's gaze was as cold as frost.
She watched Dian Jiuzhi's agony with no pity—only hatred.
Her hand gently reached out and caught a glimmering object floating in the mist.
Her heart twisted in pain.
It was Yun Che's Longevity Bead—a token of their love.
Forged from prayer jade, it had survived the light of annihilation. It lay quietly in the mist, glowing softly.
Others might have overlooked its faint light—but Hua Caili saw it instantly.
This was her other half—her eternal bond with Yun Che.
Meeting you was already fate. Why must I now spend the rest of my years missing you?
We once stood together in the falling snow. Weren't we meant to grow old hand in hand?
Memories of the past flashed through her mind.
Hua Caili's heart broke all over again.
She coughed up blood.
It stained the fog.
The sun and moon can bear witness that my love has never changed; even rivers and mountains cannot stop my longing.
If a gentle breeze could ease my yearning, it would carry my lonely message through late autumn skies.
She had written those lines during their three-year separation.
She had hoped to recite them to him when they reunited in the Sea of Mist.
But now, they would remain unspoken—scattered like regrets upon the wind.
The Glazed Moon Palace shattered.
Clouds rolled through the sorrowful winds.
The cold moon knows not the pain of parting.
The lonely magpie cries in vain, lost in the mist.
Broken clouds hide the moon, and tears fall for naught.
I drink alone, recalling the days of old.
My heart is frozen like ice—who can mend it?
I'll leave it riddled with holes... all for you.