Having cultivated myself into an immortal, all I want to do is raise female disciples.

Short white hair, disheveled clothes, and a disheveled appearance covered in wounds.

He kept his head down, so others couldn't see his expression.

However, it can be roughly determined that at this moment, the young man named Gu Xingzhuo is staring ahead at the woman who lies peacefully on the ground, like a corpse.

Everyone recognized him as Wang Xiaomo, a demon general of the Demon Dynasty.

Her body was covered with wounds from being blasted apart by sharp spiritual energy.

At the same time, the giant black axe in her hand shattered into useless fragments, losing its original luster.

And what about her?

The demonic energy within her body was slowly dissipating, which was not a good thing for her, because the demonic energy within her body would only disappear when her body could no longer be used as a corpse puppet.

In other words...

Wang Xiaomo is now slowly turning from a corpse puppet back into a corpse.

She is dead.

He died because of a poem by Gu Xingzhuo.

It has completely lost its vitality.

Yes.

It may seem unbelievable, but it's true.

Yunping glanced at Gu Xingzhuo—his disciple. His spiritual energy was completely exhausted; he must have used all his strength at the very last moment.

Otherwise, it would be absolutely impossible to render Wang Xiaomo, whose cultivation level was one level higher than his own, unable to rise again.

He saw Gu Xingzhuo slowly walk to Wang Xiaomo's side, but this demon general did not have any intention of getting up to kill Gu Xingzhuo. Instead, he lay there quietly with an unusually peaceful expression.

The young man in the white shirt walked over.

“She’s dead,” he said deliberately.

“She’s been dead all along.” Gu Xingzhuo didn’t turn around, slowly knelt down, helped Wang Xiaomo up with his hands, and gently held her in his arms: “But before that, she didn’t rest.”

"Didn't you say that the dead don't need rest?"

“I think she should rest now.” Gu Xingzhuo looked at the demonic energy slowly flowing out of Wang Xiaomo’s body, his tone more indifferent than Yun Ping had expected: “After all… her previous state could not be called living at all.”

"So you buried her."

"Ah."

Did she... remember you in the end?

Faced with this question, Gu Xingzhuo paused for a moment.

He shook his head and said, "No."

"Did she remember that poem?"

He paused for a moment, then gave a bitter laugh and turned around.

Those eyes, filled with an unknown liquid, were clear yet sorrowful as they gazed at Yunping.

He shook his head again, and said in an almost choked voice, "No..."

"Is that so?"

Yunping glanced at Wang Xiaomo, whose face was serene, and for some reason, smiled faintly.

After that unreadable laugh, he posed another question: "What do you plan to do?"

Gu Xingzhuo turned around, seemingly not intending to let Yun Ping see what he shouldn't see, and simply replied in as calm a voice as possible: "Take it back, bury it back."

"Spend a few days with her."

"it is good."

Yunping believed in Gu Xingzhuo.

He said he would only stay for a few days, and would not bury himself along with him as before.

In other words.

He did indeed face it.

He faced life and death, faced the past, faced fear, and faced his loved one.

It was truly a pity that Wang Xiaomo ultimately failed to recall Gu Xingzhuo or the poem.

Sorry?

Yun Ping smiled, glanced at Wang Xiaomo, and then at Gu Xingzhuo. He believed that Gu Xingzhuo knew, but was just unwilling to say it.

If you ask why—

He saw it all clearly.

……

Gu Xingzhuo wrote the poem "Ink-Stained Journey" with all his spiritual energy...

He actually had no spiritual energy left to send the poem to Wang Xiaomo.

At that moment, as long as Wang Xiaomo didn't touch the poem himself, but instead chose to directly attack Gu Xingzhuo, or waited for the poem to dissipate, it would be a victory for Wang Xiaomo.

Gu Xingzhuo is certain to die.

But Wang Xiaomo still swung his axe.

Because in the very end...

Saying it—

Sorry, I don't remember at all.

Both Yun Ping and Gu Xingzhuo could clearly see Wang Xiaomo saying these words.

The woman who uttered such heartless words had two lines of clear tears on her face, and although she spoke in the most ruthless tone, a happy smile was clearly on her lips.

And finally, without hesitation, he swung the axe down.

Yes.

It was Wang Xiaomo's own choice to remain silent.

"In the very last..."

Yun Ping spoke calmly, standing outside the desolate Broken Wood City, beneath the barren plains, where moonlight shone down.

The pale light illuminated the exquisite flowers, which seemed to have fallen from the sky, like a treasure bestowed upon people by heaven—flowers of unparalleled beauty, purity, and allure.

Pure white flowers.

He stretched out his palm, letting the pure flower fall into his hand, and watched it slowly melt away.

Yunping raised his head and looked at the sea of ​​flowers that was rising and falling from the sky, illuminated by the moonlight. He smiled slightly and calmly.

"Snowing."

32. I'll take your life!

A shooting star streaks across the moonlit sky.

It was not a falling star from the endless void of the starry sky, but rather it swept across the night sky in an instant at a terrifying speed like a meteorite. Its figure was not particularly large or imposing. If one looked closely, one would think it was a powerful saint walking on air.

But that person was not a saint.

As her gaze swept across the scene, the girl, whose entire body was being battered by the strong wind and scorching from the friction, couldn't help but squint—this small obstacle was nothing to her body, which had been tempered countless times.

She saw the wasteland where she had fought against the corpse puppets of the Guardian Army under Lü Chonghou, but that wasteland was only the outer part of the center of the Demon Dynasty's army's encampment.

At this very moment, he was heading towards the heart of the Demon Dynasty's army.

Even from a distance, wisps of black smoke could be seen rising from the scorched earth, the stench of decay permeated the surroundings, and the flesh was visible. Within a radius of nearly ten miles, there was no sign of life, only deathly silence.

Five barren, desolate mountain peaks are linked together, resembling a black hand half-embedded in the ground when viewed from a distance. Directly in front of these five peaks lies a cemetery.

A converted cemetery.

Zhang Ruoxue saw the tombstones used as city walls for defense, the blood pools that had been hollowed out and filled with a large amount of essence blood for evil cultivators to use for cultivation, and she could see clearly the tombs that extended into the ground, emanating terrifying demonic energy.

At this moment, she had to admit that her teacher's methods were indeed ingenious and unbelievable.

He seemed to have already seen these layers of barriers and fortifications. If they attacked head-on, Zhang Ruoxue might not even be qualified to reach the very center of the Demon Dynasty's army's encampment.

That's why he used such a joking method to throw himself out.

By falling from the sky, he directly bypassed those layers of barriers and arrived at the center of the Demon Dynasty's army, searching for the man he had to find.

And it was at this moment—

The flight speed slowed down, as if the old rogue had calculated the force with perfect precision. Zhang Ruoxue barely flew over the high sky before falling diagonally downwards.

boom!

A violent explosion was accompanied by a cloud of dust that filled the entire cemetery.

Zhang Ruoxue landed precisely in the very center of the cemetery.

The dust slowly settled.

Her short, neat black hair was swept up, and a hint of coldness appeared in her ocean-blue eyes as she scanned her surroundings, observing the situation.

"Thirteen tombs... Are there two places where demonic energy is most concentrated...?"

Based on the intelligence obtained previously, the man wearing the bat mask is very likely one of the sixteen demon lords of the Demon Dynasty. If so, the demonic energy within him must be different from that of other cultivators of the Demon Dynasty.

There are now two tombs that exude an ominous aura: one behind him and the other beneath the black, five-fingered mountain peak that resembles half a palm.

"!!"

Just as Zhang Ruoxue was preparing to explore them one by one.

A sudden chill swept over her from behind. Zhang Ruoxue's lips twitched, and she quickly turned halfway around, then raised her right foot and delivered a whip kick to the dark figure flying towards her from the upper left.

And this kick, unsurprisingly, landed squarely on the dark figure's abdomen.

The shadowy figure let out a muffled groan. Zhang Ruoxue's physical attack was no joke; he was immediately kicked dozens of meters away, rolling on the ground countless times before finally coming to a stop.