I gain ten years' worth of cultivation every day, and even geniuses will only see my doorstep!

Lin Qing'er looked into Lin Qing'er's eyes. Two identical pairs of eyes, one bright, one dull. The bright pair was looking at her, the dull pair was looking at the other.

Qin Yuan shared his memories of meeting Lin Qing'er with the mirror image of Lin Qing'er. It wasn't through language or images, but through a direct transmission—he used the protection of the Heavenly Dao to peel away the feeling of being "chosen," like peeling an orange, removing time, place, and event, leaving only the emotion of that moment.

Lin Qing'er closed her eyes. She sensed it. Not her own memories, but Qin Yuan's. He stood by the stream behind the Xuan Yuan Sect, squatted down, and saw a girl washing spiritual herbs in the water. The girl looked up and smiled at him. He didn't choose whether to smile or not; the corners of his mouth curved into a smile on their own. It wasn't a choice. It was inevitable.

She opened her eyes. "I don't understand," she said, "but I understand what 'not understanding' means."

Qin Yuan extended his hand. His palm was gray—the color of the Heavenly Dao in the mirror world. Mirror Lin Qing'er also extended her hand; her palm was silver—the color of abandoning rules. Their palms met. Gray and silver did not repel each other, but rather merged like two rivers flowing into the sea. Abandonment is the other side of protection. Without abandonment, protection has no meaning. Without protection, abandonment has no object. They are not opposites. They are two ends of the same thing.

The sixth timeline has been repaired. The mirror world hasn't disappeared; instead, it left a silver mark in Qin Yuan's palm. It's not a scar, but a passage. He can return at any time.

Lin Qing'er stood on the white ground, watching Qin Yuan and Lin Qing'er turn and leave.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Lin Qing'er asked, turning around.

Lin Qing'er shook her head. "I am not you. I have my own path."

Her path was a white earth, a black sky, upside-down mountains, and bottomless clouds. She stood alone between heaven and earth, but she no longer felt cold.

The Old Man of Time walked at the forefront, leading towards the seventh line. His white robes turned white again, and his hair returned to white. The Mirror World receded further and further behind them.

"The seventh line is not on any map," said the Old Man of Time. "It has been hidden by the Void Council in a place where it does not exist."

Qin Yuan stopped. "How can I get to a place that doesn't exist?"

The Old Man of Time did not answer. He did not know.

Qin Yuan looked at his hands. His hands existed. He looked at Lin Qing'er. She existed. He looked at Old Man Time. He existed too. To understand non-existence, one must first become non-existent.

He retreated to the entrance of the Mirror World, but did not enter it. He stood at the edge of the passage, half in the myriad worlds, half in the mirror. Two rules collided within his body—protection and abandonment, existence and reverse existence. He felt his "presence" diminishing, not disappearing, but becoming transparent.

Lin Qing'er saw through his intention. She grabbed his wrist. "You're going alone again."

"This time I have to be alone," Qin Yuan said. "As long as you're here, my presence won't disappear."

Lin Qing'er didn't loosen her grip. He looked into her eyes. Her eyes seemed to say, "I disagree," but her mouth remained silent.

Qin Yuan said, "I'll be back soon."

Lin Qing'er released her grip.

Qin Yuan's body vanished from the myriad worlds. It wasn't invisibility, nor teleportation; rather, his "existence" was temporarily stripped away. He could still feel himself—conscious, with memories, with form. But form wasn't a body, consciousness wasn't in his brain, and memories weren't in time. He was in a place without dimensions.

The Void Council is waiting here.

They weren't gray shadows. The Void Council here was transparent, almost invisible. Qin Yuan could perceive them not because of sight, but because their "non-existence" left a mark on his "existence," like ripples on water.

"You've come." The voice didn't come from outside, but from within Qin Yuan's own mind. It wasn't that he was thinking it, but that the Void Council was speaking through his consciousness. "We've been waiting for you."

Qin Yuan asked, "What are you waiting for me to do?"

"Wait until you give up."

Qin Yuan didn't answer. He was waiting. Waiting for them to continue.

The Void Council continued speaking, as expected. They didn't speak one sentence after another, but rather emitted countless sounds simultaneously, each very soft, which combined to create a deep hum.

"The existence of all worlds has no purpose. The birth of living beings has no meaning. Whether you kill someone or save someone, the end result is death. Whether you love someone or hate someone, the end result is oblivion. You have lived for billions of years, and you have reached the end of everything. What have you seen? What is at the end? Nothing. You know this better than we do."

Qin Yuan said, "You say it's meaningless, but you're trying to convince me. The very act of convincing me is the meaning of your existence."

The buzzing stopped for a moment.

Qin Yuan continued, "You are not 'non-existent.' You are 'afraid of existence.' Because existence brings hurt, loss, and pain. Non-existence brings no pain. But you are here, talking to me. You are trying to change my mind. A non-existent 'thing' will not try to change anything."

The Void Council remained silent for a long time. So long that Qin Yuan began to doubt whether he could still perceive the length of time. In this void, time did not flow, but rather accumulated. Each second felt like a layer of snow, pressing down on him.

"Aren't you afraid?" the Void Council asked.

Qin Yuan said, "I'm afraid. But I'm even more afraid of her being alone."

He condensed a point of light in the emptiness. Not with spiritual power, not with the Dao of Heaven, but with that thought—"I'm more afraid of her being alone." The thought itself was too small, as small as a speck of dust. But even dust exists. The point of light transformed from dust into sand, from sand into pebbles, from pebbles into stone. It expanded outward, and the emptiness began to shrink. Not pushed away, but replaced. For every bit more existence, a bit less non-existence.

When the void shrank to half its original size, the Void Council split. Qin Yuan could sense the cracks within them—not physical cracks, but a collapse of consensus. One group of shadows agreed to let Qin Yuan repair the seventh line, while the other group vehemently opposed it.

The shadow that agreed said, "He has proven that existence has value."

The opposing shadow said, "He only proved your weakness."

The conflict escalated from words to a clash of rules. The rules of nothingness and the rules of existence tore at each other in the void, like two snakes intertwined. The tearing was silent, but Qin Yuan could feel the vibrations. Each vibration made his point of light tremble, but it did not dissipate.

Qin Yuan discovered it. The Void Council was not a unified entity, but a collection of countless thoughts that "fear existence." Each thought had its own voice, its own fear, and its own logic. They did not intentionally want to destroy all worlds; they simply did not know what benefit there was in their existence.