The improved female villains regained their memories.

High in the sky, layers of clouds obscured the warm sun, and snowflakes fell on people's shoulders, turning their hair white as well.

Yang Pingsheng saw it all, but said nothing. He simply held her hand and smiled as always.

"Let's go back."

...................

.............

.......

At the summit of the snow-capped mountain, a world of silver and white unfolds, tranquil and mysterious. Sunlight filters through the clouds, scattering across the snow and reflecting a dazzling light, as if the entire world is enveloped in golden radiance. In the distance, the mountain peaks soar into the clouds, their summits covered with thick snow, resembling winding, coiled silver dragons.

On the mountainside, dense forests cover the slopes, the trees draped in snow-white coats, their branches laden with glistening icicles. A cold wind blows, and the branches sway gently, rustling softly, blending with the sound of a stream flowing from the distant valley to create a beautiful song of nature.

Yang Pingsheng held Li Chumo's hand, and the latter talked on and on.

She spoke with great bravado, describing how she could take on fifty men single-handedly, leaving them bruised and battered. In the end, she even went berserk and beat up the martial arts masters, causing the system to chuckle at the end.

Yang Pingsheng laughed and said, "I saw you get beaten up."

“They ambushed me.” Li Chumo’s face flushed red. “If we had fought fair and square, I would have beaten them to a pulp.”

"Does it hurt?"

"How could it hurt? They hit me..."

They stopped talking.

They didn't even leave.

Li Chumo let go of his hand, lowered his head, and stood there alone.

Yang Pingsheng found it strange and turned to look at her.

She remained silent, tears streaming down her face like broken pearls, dripping incessantly to the ground.

"They say I'm a bastard, that I'm a motherless child, that you're my father, but they just don't dare to acknowledge me..."

"I... I didn't want to pay attention to them either, but they said that Master, you will leave one day, and you will go to the Demon Abyss, where you may die in battle."

"I...I don't want you to leave..."

Yang Pingsheng's guess was indeed correct; Li Chumo remembered those words for a long time.

Her vibrant purple hair was slightly disheveled from crying, with a few strands playfully clinging to her rosy forehead. Her eyes, as bright as the sun in a summer sky, were now filled with tears, making one's heart ache.

Li Chumo cried and said:

"Master, I don't want you to leave me."

When I was five years old, on another winter day, snowflakes drifted in through the holes in the roof of the house on the very edge of the werewolf tribe.

The wounded old werewolf wiped away Li Chumo's tears and said:

"Girl, don't cry. If you keep crying, I won't want to leave."

"Grandpa, I don't want you to leave," Li Chumo said, crying. "If you leave and don't come back, I'll be all alone."

The old werewolf was very old. Although he was huge, he was blind in one eye and his tail was broken in half.

At this time, the end of the year was approaching, and the werewolf tribe also had the custom of bidding farewell to the old year. Unlike the fox tribe, which held a temple fair, the werewolf tribe held a hunting competition. At this time, the center of the tribe was bustling with activity, and the young werewolves were eager to try their luck, all wanting to win the biggest prize in the hunting competition.

The horns and cheers carried far enough to reach this dilapidated house. The old werewolf listened without saying a word. He was old and could only use one-tenth of his demonic power after transforming into a beast. He was usually alone. The werewolf tribe believed in the supremacy of the strong, and now he was the weak one. No one cared about him.

But he has people he cares about.

“Girl, if I can survive the hunting competition, they will give you a spot. With a spot, you can be protected until you are ten years old,” the old werewolf said with a smile. “I might not even die, so why are you crying?”

“Grandpa, you’re lying. The uncles who organized the competition all told me that only werewolves who win prizes or die in battle get a spot,” Li Chumo cried. “I don’t want a spot, Grandpa. I can support myself.”

The old werewolf said nothing, stroked her head, and sighed softly.

Tribes have their own rules.

The old werewolf's hidden injuries were already very serious; the doctor said he wouldn't live more than three months.

Since he was going to die anyway, what did he want to do before he died?

"Girl, stop crying. What kind of behavior is this? Everyone has to grow up on their own."

The old werewolf bent down and wiped away Li Chumo's tears.

"We werewolves respect the strong. Crying is a sign of weakness and will make us look down on by other werewolves, do you understand? So, stop crying!"

His expression softened, and he said, "People always have to leave."

After saying this last sentence, the old werewolf walked out of the room.

Li Chumo stood at the door, watching him walk towards the center of the tribe.

In the hunting competition, the prey is the werewolf himself.

In this endless battle, only the survivor is the victor.

The weak are the prey!

She suddenly stood on tiptoe to look. In the center of the tribe, flames soared into the sky. The battle of prey had reached its most critical moment, and the voice of the commentator was clearly suppressed.

"One-tenth, one-tenth of his demonic power, just one-tenth of his demonic power, and he has actually persisted until now. My God, it's unimaginable. What has made him persist until now?"

"He withstood it again! He used one-tenth of his demonic power to withstand half of the opponent's demonic power. He is a true warrior of our werewolf tribe!"

A glimmer of hope suddenly ignited in Li Chumo's heart: maybe they could win?

Yes, getting a spot doesn't necessarily mean death. If the old werewolf wins, then...

Unfortunately, miracles don't happen in the Seventh World.

"Oh, he's fallen. What a pity. But with only one-tenth of his demonic power, he managed to hold on until now, which is quite an achievement..."

That's quite a miracle.

In the center of the tribe, even louder applause erupted, but this applause was not for the old werewolf, but for the newly crowned champion.

The old werewolf is dead; no werewolf will care about him anymore.

Yes, he died, died as a weakling, and no one will care about his perseverance and his protection.

The unspoken rule of the werewolf tribe is that only the strong are cared about, and only their voices are heard.

The old werewolf who died no longer does.

As the snow fell, the girl wept uncontrollably.

The old werewolf is truly gone forever.

After he said those words, he really couldn't come back.

People always have to leave.

Li Chumo remembered this sentence for longer than Yang Pingsheng had imagined.

That day, with tears in her eyes, she watched as the old werewolf walked out of the cabin and never returned.

From that day on, she received a new spot: the werewolf tribe, who would protect her until she was ten years old.

An old life for five years.

The heavy snow kept falling all winter.

The small figure stood alone outside the wooden door, repeating that sentence over and over.

"People always have to leave."

Chapter 419 The Mishap Begins

The woods were so quiet that only Li Chumo's soft sobs could be heard. Yang Pingsheng looked at her and squatted down in front of her.

"Don't cry, Xiao Mo."

He said softly, "I won't leave."

Li Chumo burst into laughter through his tears.

Did I guess wrong?

If Li Chumo would remember a single sentence for so long, then how could she be the kind of person who forgets kindness?

Was I overthinking Heaven's plan? Even Li Chumo, who was a human transformed from a secret treasure, had walked the mortal world for so long; perhaps he too possessed his own "heart"?

However, her determination to destroy beautiful things and her savagery, which was ingrained in her very bones, did not seem fake.

The truth was now elusive, and Yang Pingsheng could no longer see through it all.

Night veils the snow-capped peaks, the sound of flowing water glides gently through the forest, and in the deserted courtyard, Yang Pingsheng sits on a stone bench, with the oriole that the system has transformed into perched on the back of his hand.

"Are you still thinking about villains?"

Its voice was no longer the dull, mechanical, and androgynous one it had been before; instead, it became like a woman's voice—crisp and pleasant to hear.

Just as it was about to say something, it felt a cold gaze coming from elsewhere, which startled it. It cautiously peeked out and found that Li Chumo was doing his homework in the room, while looking at it with resentful eyes.

Look at Yang Pingsheng, not me.

It hopped and snuggled into Yang Pingsheng's arms, making sure he couldn't see it, before whispering, "Does it mean you're questioning the definition of a villain?"

Yang Pingsheng could also sense the female villain's gaze, so he didn't say anything, but simply nodded slightly.

The concept of "an inhuman, supreme being" should, by definition, not be swayed by such a statement.

The system knew the true purpose of the Heavenly Dao's plan, but it couldn't tell Yang Pingsheng. So, it nudged its head with its wings in distress and came up with an excuse: "Perhaps being 'unfeeling' has another meaning?"

Yang Pingsheng did not answer.

I have to go to Taixu every time I cross the world. That place has no heart.

No matter how deep the feelings or love, repeatedly entering and leaving such a place will eventually turn one into a cold, indifferent person, like a stone statue. The treasure that absorbed the energy of the Great Void should be transformed into a human in this way to live up to the definition of the Heavenly Dao.

Li Chumo's previous reaction was within Yang Pingsheng's expectations, but now it's unexpected.

"The villains are coming, I'm leaving now."

The system was transformed into light points and merged into Yang Pingsheng's body. It was at this moment that Yang Pingsheng heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Immediately afterwards, the little guy pounced on him and hugged Yang Pingsheng's neck tightly.

"Master, I don't want to do my homework anymore!"