[The gears of fate turn quietly, and things begin to move in a favorable direction.]
[Ye Youning truly possesses the supreme talent of this world—the Chaotic Divine Body. Her cultivation speed far exceeds anything you could have imagined. For ordinary people, cultivation is like toiling up a rugged mountain path; for you, it was merely walking along a flat highway; but for Ye Youning, it is like driving a sports car at full throttle down an expressway, rocketing all the way.]
[In a mere two years, Ye Youning has already stepped into the Golden Core stage, her strength growing by leaps and bounds. Yet despite this, her reliance on you has not diminished in the slightest. No matter where you go, she follows you closely like a little tail.]
[Day by day, your body grows weaker, deteriorating with each passing moment as if quietly eroded by the frost and wind of time, losing its former vitality and radiance.]
[You often feel unequal to the task; the spiritual energy within you becomes harder and harder to retain, and your strength plummets sharply, to the point where you feel you cannot even compare to an ordinary Golden Core stage cultivator. This sense of powerlessness fills you with anxiety—your body might be collapsing much faster than you imagined.]
[You begin to ponder the manner in which you should bring about your final curtain call in this world.]
[Given your current condition, should you suddenly vanish, Ye Youning would undoubtedly search to the ends of the earth at any cost. You do not wish to see your sister run herself ragged for you, nor do you want to become a shackle binding her freedom.]
[At last, you hit upon a brilliant idea—a way to stage your exit that will ensure Ye Youning never comes looking for you again.]
[Though you have never studied acting, the dozens of television shows you watched over the years give you a sliver of confidence in your acting skills.]
[For this meticulously planned "performance," you pull every string at your disposal, going to great lengths to enlist a few "extras"—the sect leader, your master, and Senior Sister Liu.]
[In these final moments, you accelerate your tutelage of Ye Youning, striving for perfection in everything from cultivation techniques to worldly conduct. You know your time is running out.]
[One day, while instructing Ye Youning, you suddenly cough up blood, scaring her to the point where her eyes turn red. You comfort her, saying it is merely a blockage in your circulation and some pooled blood within your body.]
[You plan to officially launch this final performance a month from now. But before that, you need to lay some groundwork.]
……
Lately, Ye Youning has been living in constant fear.
She increasingly feels as though her only pillar of support, her brother Ye Feng, has been bewitched and completely transformed into a different person.
In the past, Ye Feng always showered her with meticulous care and concern, but nowadays he often locks himself in his room for entire days at a time. The door remains tightly shut, as if deliberately cutting off the outside world—and blocking out her worries and concern for him.
When night falls and all is dead silent, Ye Feng takes advantage of her deep sleep to sneak out alone behind her back. Although he carefully washes up upon his return each time, she can still detect the scent of blood on him—not the blood of ordinary livestock, but one tainted with an unnerving, bizarre aura.
"Ye Feng, wait for me!"
Today, having finally run into Ye Feng along a path, Ye Youning seizes upon him like a drowning person clutching a straw. Without a second thought, she rushes forward and grips his arm tightly, terrified that he might vanish the next second.
"Ye Feng, are you alright?" Ye Youning's voice trembles, her eyes filled with worry and terror.
Ye Feng seems startled by this sudden movement. Looking flustered, he hurriedly lowers his head and replies in a hurried tone, "What could possibly be wrong with me?"
Ye Youning chokes up, a sharp pain stabbing at her heart. In the past, Ye Feng always spoke to her in gentle tones with utmost care; when has he ever used such a blunt, harsh tone with her? Yet she remains thoroughly uneasy; instead of letting go, she grips him even tighter, her voice carrying a trace of tears.
"You... you aren't practicing some evil arts, are you?"
Ye Feng slowly raises his head, and at the sight of him, Ye Youning cannot help but startle. Ye Feng's complexion is as pale as paper, utterly devoid of color. He looks deeply haggard, his eye sockets sunken, his gaze filled with fatigue and evasion.
"Focus on your own cultivation and stay out of other people's business!" With that, Ye Feng forcefully shakes off Ye Youning's hand and walks away on his own without looking back, his hurried steps resembling someone fleeing in panic.
Ye Youning stands frozen in place, watching Ye Feng's retreating figure as terror spreads through her like a rising tide.
She clearly remembers how Ye Feng once described in detail all the terrifying traits of evil cultivators. And right now, Ye Feng's appearance—from his pale, gaunt face to the bizarre smell of blood about him—fits those traits to perfection.
"No, no... I have to go tell Grandpa Li. Only he can stop Ye Feng." Panicking, Ye Youning mutters incessantly to herself.
Burning with anxiety, she hastily summons her flying sword and hurtles toward the Peak Master's palace.
Ye Feng takes a few steps forward before his pace abruptly halts, as if pulled by invisible threads. He slowly turns around, his gaze following the girl soaring away on her sword. Right now, sunlight spills across his shoulders, yet it fails to dispel the desolation lingering around him.
Even though all of this is meticulously orchestrated by him, seeing his sister like this still makes comforting words bubble uncontrollably to the tip of his tongue, begging to escape.
"That simply won't do." Ye Youning mutters to himself, reaching up to slap his cheeks hard in an attempt to snap himself awake. He knows he must push through and cannot let a momentary bout of soft-heartedness leave behind a complete mess in the end.
"Ahem." An itch suddenly flares in his throat. Ye Youning instinctively covers his mouth, but fails to hold it back. With a soft cough, a mouthful of fresh blood splatters onto the ground at his feet. The crimson stain looks glaringly stark against the dim earth, like a ruthless mockery of fate.
"I won't be seeing any of this in the future." The youth gazes at the bloodstain, his voice low and hoarse.
Ye Youning slowly raises his hand, and the pool of blood is gently wiped away by an invisible pair of hands, gradually fading from sight...