That was seven years ago from now—”Extreme Path” was officially established.

I estimate that in the future, few of those who join “Extreme Path” will believe that such a vast and mysterious organization as “Extreme Path” was established by Jiang Ruoxue and me standing on the street, in just a few sentences.

After Jiang Ruoxue left, I finally understood thoroughly what “cause and effect” meant.

Jiang Ruoxue was probably the most powerful “Echo” I had encountered in five years.

If she determined the “result” of something, then the “cause” leading to that result would inevitably occur.

If she first stated a “cause,” then that “cause” would inevitably produce the “result” she anticipated.

However, each time she had to find a logical relationship that could convince herself and truly occur. The more massive the matter, the more difficult it was for her.

And I finally understood—the five years she spent with me was a test all along.

She was not only observing me but also subconsciously constructing this powerful “cause and effect” relationship.

When she felt the time was ripe, she spoke out the “cause and effect” she had long contemplated in her heart.

In other words, during the past five years, if I had done anything that didn’t satisfy Jiang Ruoxue, we would forever be just good friends. She would never activate “cause and effect” to establish “Extreme Path” for me in one stroke.

So which was the “cause” and which was the “effect”?

Was it because I wanted to establish “Extreme Path” that she appeared… or was it because of her appearance that I could establish “Extreme Path”?

Cause and effect entangled endlessly—this was the most difficult thing in the world to explain clearly.

Some people struggled with whether the chicken or the egg came first in the world, but I believed that chicken and egg appeared simultaneously in entanglement and walked toward the future together.

I also used some negotiation techniques and observation methods, trying my best to select some eccentric loners who acted strangely. This way, when they made outrageous moves, people would usually think these people were naturally like this, rather than immediately thinking they had an organization.

Actually, there was one thing I never quite figured out—that was when Jiang Ruoxue once told me, “From now on, as long as you speak the truth with sincerity, without any deception, the other party will believe everything you say.”

The most worth pondering word in this sentence was “truth.”

How should I understand this “truth”?

I told everyone that as long as they collected 3,600 “Dao,” this place would be reshuffled. The other party believed me, so what I said was the “truth”?

If so… couldn’t I use this sentence to “probe the future”?

That is to say, I could test whether what I said was actually the “truth” through what I told each person. As long as the other party believed me, due to “cause and effect” existing, then what I said was true.

If the other party didn’t believe me, then what I said was a lie.

This sounded really abstract, but it worked every time.

I once told others that “Extreme Path” would lead everyone to escape the “Land of Ends,” but the other party didn’t believe me.

I said the founder of “Extreme Path” would one day work together with the ruler of this place, but the other party still didn’t believe me.

All of these turned out to be false.

It seemed that sometimes being able to probe the future wasn’t necessarily a good thing. I often fell into disappointment about the future in advance.

Whether it was a side effect of “cause and effect” on me or retribution for peeking at heavenly secrets, I often felt something strange about myself. I seemed to suddenly space out.

One day I clearly remembered walking on the street, but the next second I was sitting in front of a building, not far from a Human-level “Zodiac.”

This feeling occurred once about three years ago, and it came again today.

I always felt like something was missing in my brain, but based on my experience, this feeling would soon vanish into thin air.

I looked at the “Zodiac” in the distance. He stood quietly in front of a building, staring at the ground before him, lost in thought.

I seemed to think of something, so I walked forward a few steps.

Sure enough, he finally appeared.

A full five years… he finally appeared here. So I hadn’t spaced out—I was pulled over by him.

However, I was somewhat curious… I had also seen the “Zodiac Ascension Gambling” contract. As long as all the people in the interview room disappeared, he would become “Earth-level.” Why was he still “Man-Goat” now?

“Brother Goat…?” I called softly.

His mask was exactly the same as five years ago, and his physique was no different, but he looked very dispirited.

The Man-Goat in the distance raised his head and looked at me with eyes that were both familiar and strange. He sized me up from head to toe. After a few seconds, he lowered his head again as if he hadn’t seen anything.

What’s going on… He didn’t recognize me?

“Baiyang?” I walked forward a few more steps and called out.

At this moment he finally reacted, seeming to confirm I was calling him, so he raised his head and looked at me once more, then asked coldly, “What’s the matter?”

“What’s… the matter?”

I was choked by his way of asking. What did he mean by “what’s the matter”?

I had been running around for five years for a verbal promise with him, and now he asked me “what’s the matter”?

“Weren’t you the one who called me here…?” I asked again. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I called you here…?” He slowly narrowed his eyes, his gaze as cold as if he wanted to kill someone. After a few seconds he shook his head and said, “Impossible. I never called you. Go back wherever you came from.”

I felt something was a bit odd about him…

But this physique, this mask, this voice… he was clearly Baiyang.

Could it be… he lost his memory?

A strange sense of helplessness began to surge in my heart. If Baiyang really lost his memory and forgot everything… then what had I been doing all these years?

“Baiyang… you don’t remember me?” I probed again.

“You…?” Baiyang’s gaze shot out from behind the mask, seeming to be pondering something. After a long while, he reached up and touched his forehead. “Wait… I think I remember you…”

I still felt it was very strange. His expression didn’t seem like he didn’t recognize me, but rather like he was searching for some distant memory.

“Where did I see you…”

He looked at the ground gloomily. Only then did I know what difference there was between him now and the last time I saw him.

In his eyes, besides the previous wisdom and determination, there was additionally a coldness and despair.

“Yan…” He slowly uttered my surname.

I was about to open my mouth to remind him of the next two characters, but I silently closed my mouth. I hoped he could remember me, rather than me reminding him.

I needed him to say my name to prove that my existence was meaningful.

Unfortunately, he simply couldn’t remember what my name was. After a moment, he showed a pained expression.