“Mo Xie is still deep in the Northern Sea; you just need to go deeper to find him,” the man said, parting the towering waves, walking ahead. Zi Yue, seeing the man walk on water, had no choice but to follow. Deep in the Northern Sea, she heard the sounds of Mo Xie’s battle, fierce and intense. She followed the sound, running through the murky waves, over the crests of the waves, feeling closer to Mo Xie with each step. Overjoyed, she called out to Mo Xie, rushing forward.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind. “Mo Xie?” Zi Yue thought it was Mo Xie, turning around with a smile. A cloud of murky mist was sprayed into her face, and before she could see who held her, she fainted.
When she woke up, it was from a sharp, piercing pain. The pain blurred her vision; she opened her beautiful eyes, now clouded with agony, unable to believe that the one who stabbed her was her beloved Mo Xie. The pain and despair swelled within her; she didn’t understand, she hurt. Why? Why? Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Mo Xie…” she called out once more before she perished. She died with deep despair and pain, with profound hatred. If there was a heaven, she would question heaven; if there was an earth, she would question earth. Mo Xie, who claimed to love her forever, to love her for all eternity, had killed her with one stroke of his sword. Why? Zi Yue died with eyes wide open, filled with confusion and unanswered questions.
“Why did you kill me? Why?” Xu Caitong’s face was pale; she had seen it, truly seen Mo Xie’s sword pierce her heart. Her chest ached as if she had been stabbed by Mo Xie herself. “No, no,” Liu Buqun said, his heart wrenching at the sight of Xu Caitong’s pale face. He had seen it too, truly seen it. In the distant ancient times, he had battled Fu Xiu for forty-nine days, chasing him all the way to the shores of the Northern Sea.
