"Ah..." Jiang Taixu wailed mournfully, his cry shaking the heavens and earth.
After a separation of four thousand years, there was endless sorrow and pain. A hero in his twilight years, a beauty withered—how could his heart not break? How could his spirit not ache? The Divine King was desolate, his heart filled with grief.
The mournful cry scattered the clouds in the night sky and alarmed everyone in the Divine City. It was like the sea pouring into the Nine Layer Heavens—endless sorrow, overwhelming sadness.
Jiang Taixu stood alone in the field, his flesh and blood already withered. Yet, the corners of his dry eyes glistened as he held the old woman's cold corpse, unmoving.
The Divine King seemed petrified. Not knowing how much time had passed, he made no sound, no movement, just quietly gazed at the old woman.
