The old man was blind, his eyeballs had been gouged out, leaving only two black empty sockets on his face.

This blind old man had been imprisoned here far longer than the mute across from him—over ten years—and had long since adapted to everything here: the darkness, the silence, the cold.

Unlike the mute across from him, the blind old man could still perceive a faint trace of star power; his star meridians remained intact.

But the mute across from him couldn’t.

The mute only had faint reactions in his body technique meridian.

After finishing his rat, the blind old man belched in satisfaction, patted his belly, and said to the mute: “When you’ve been locked up for a few more years, you’ll realize that having rats to eat is a blessing.”

Lying on the ground, Dong Yeyun thought to himself that he would rather die than eat rats.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been imprisoned before.

When he first ventured out into the world, he often fell into traps set by people with ulterior motives, offending those with power and influence. He had been held in various dungeons for periods ranging from ten days to half a month. The longest was when he was confined on a solitary island in some maritime domain, imprisoned for a full six months.

The island was perpetually shrouded in mist, filled with dangers, and frequently visited by monsters. One wrong move could cost him his life, and his star power was difficult to restore. Several times he nearly died, even contemplating shattering his Seven Stars Command to call his sister for help, but ultimately held back.

He needed to learn to rely on himself, not on his powerful father and sister.

Back then, Dong Yeyun had eaten many unpalatable things, such as tree roots and grass, but he had no intention of eating rats. The reason was simple—they were too filthy to stomach.

He wondered if this cleanliness obsession was something his sister had passed on to him.

It was also during that time on the island that he met Liang Pingshan.

Liang Pingshan was the first friend Dong Yeyun made during his travels.

They formed a partnership on the island, searching for ways to escape together, entrusting their backs to each other when surrounded by attackers. It was an unforgettable experience—gaining precious friendship in a place where human trust was virtually nonexistent.

On the day they destroyed the island, they sat in a small boat, silently watching the great fire on the sea.

Liang Pingshan asked him, “Where do you plan to go next?”

“Home,” Dong Yeyun replied.

“What? You have a home?” Liang Pingshan was shocked. “Aren’t you an orphan?”

Dong Yeyun wiped his face irritably and said, “You’ve got it wrong. You’re the orphan.”

Liang Pingshan scratched his head and retorted just as irritably, “I have a family too, you know!”

Back then, they were bright young men of similar age, meeting and parting ways as they traveled the mortal realm, each time rescuing each other from perilous situations, each reunion showing their individual growth.

Dong Yeyun was a traveler who would never cease his forward journey, having only one fixed place to return to.

Along the way, he had seen all sorts of people, encountered many strange and peculiar events, and met people and partedx ways with them. It truly embodied the saying, “Those with a destined connection will meet naturally.”

Upon meeting Liang Pingshan again, Dong Yeyun asked him, “What are you wandering the world for?”

Liang Pingshan sat by the window, with one hand supporting his chin, gazing at the bustling market below. The dim yellow lamplight reflected in his bright eyes, making this normally defiant person appear unexpectedly gentle.

He seemed to contemplate very seriously before answering, “To cultivate, to become stronger.”

Nearby were Hong Xiu and Liu Zhuo teasing each other, along with the starving ghost Huo Lingfeng frantically devouring food from the table, while the wealthy young lady Zhou Caicai was still ordering more dishes.

Dong Yeyun sat across from him, and Liang Pingshan asked in return, “What about you? Why do you do this?”

“More or less the same,” Dong Yeyun thought for a moment and said, “To become stronger, to find my limits, but also because I enjoy it.”

Doing what he loved, that was all.

Liang Pingshan was momentarily stunned upon hearing this, then covered his face and laughed for quite a while. Dong Yeyun didn’t understand what was so funny, so he just stared expressionlessly.

“What places haven’t you been to yet?” Liang Pingshan asked while still laughing.

Dong Yeyun replied, “Still many.”

“Take me with you when you have time,” Liang Pingshan said casually, raising an eyebrow. “I also enjoy traveling around.”

At that time, Dong Yeyun thought he was just joking, without deeper meaning.

That same evening, everyone joked about Hong Xiu’s miraculous ability to see through people and asked her to look at them, to see what she could discern. When Hong Xiu looked at Liang Pingshan, her expression slightly froze, and she didn’t tell the truth.

Later, Dong Yeyun heard from Hong Xiu: “The ‘aura’ around Pingshan is unique and mysterious, but his inner ‘aura’ is filled with hatred.”

Only then did Dong Yeyun understand that his friend Liang Pingshan was someone striving to become stronger for revenge.

Actually, he had vaguely guessed Liang Pingshan’s situation, but since Liang Pingshan never mentioned it and refused to bring up those matters, he didn’t ask further.

Until he met Liang Pingshan while escorting Chu Xiao back to the Imperial Capital.

By then, they were almost at the Imperial Capital, on a mountain stone path on the outskirts. Liang Pingshan stood ahead, blocking the way, with the verdant mountain scenery behind him, making the youth in green blend into the surroundings.

Liang Pingshan asked with squinted eyes, “If I said I came to kill her, what would you do?”

Dong Yeyun held the carriage reins, seeming somewhat helpless.

“Alright, I was just joking,” Liang Pingshan said. “If I wanted to kill her, I would wait until she entered the Imperial Capital.”

Dong Yeyun asked Chu Xiao to stay in the carriage and walked some distance away with Liang Pingshan to talk. He didn’t ask whether it was truly a joke, but instead asked, “You’ve returned to the Imperial Capital?”

Liang Pingshan rested both hands behind his head, leaning lazily against a giant boulder by the mountain, “I should have returned long ago.”

Dong Yeyun asked, “What do you plan to do now that you’re back?”

“Walk around, see some old acquaintances, look to the future,” Liang Pingshan winked at him.

Dong Yeyun knew he wasn’t answering seriously.

By this time, his relationship with Chu Xiao had already soured, and that very evening, he delivered her to the Imperial Capital.

Dong Yeyun watched as Chu Xiao walked away amid the sea of lights. She never looked back once.

Liang Pingshan said to him, “You should leave quickly, too. She doesn’t like you at all. How awkward would it be for you to stay in the Imperial Capital? Are you planning to protect her here, watching her fall in love with another man? Wouldn’t that make you sick?”

Dong Yeyun replied, “If you want me to leave the Imperial Capital, there’s no need to say such things.”

Liang Pingshan said, “You really should leave.”

The two gazed at each other in the night, both with many words to say, yet none that could be clearly expressed at this moment.

Dong Yeyun left the Imperial Capital that very night.

Liang Pingshan watched his departing figure, silently bidding farewell to his friend.

In the end, Chu Xiao chose Chang Hanhe. She couldn’t abandon her most passionate and pure choice from her youth. Looking back, Dong Yeyun realized this was perhaps what had attracted him to her in the first place.

That passion, that obsession, that almost fanatical persistence, never letting go, no matter what hardships or difficulties she faced outside, she would crawl back to the Imperial Capital to be with that person.

Dong Yeyun reflected that perhaps what he wanted was this kind of emotion, rather than necessarily this specific person.

But it still hurt.

Because Chu Xiao had truly attempted to give up Chang Hanhe at one point, focusing her attention solely on him.

She had also helped Dong Yeyun in life-or-death situations.

But the process wasn’t important—what mattered was the final choice.

Everyone made their choice in the end.

Liang Pingshan chose revenge.

Dong Yeyun chose to come to the Imperial Capital.

He killed his way into the Imperial Capital on a rainy night, finding Liang Pingshan in the attic before anyone else.

Liang Pingshan was already barely clinging to life. He opened only one eye to look at the visitor and spat blood, grumbling, “What are you doing here?”

That letter wasn’t meant to summon Dong Yeyun to the Imperial Capital to save him or help.

The letter’s content merely reminded Dong Yeyun that some wine he had hidden somewhere years ago had reached its time, and to remember to retrieve it.

Because Dong Yeyun had forgotten where he had hidden his wine.

The letter was just about a trivial matter.

Yet Dong Yeyun saw Liang Pingshan’s determination in this small gesture. If he hadn’t been prepared to die in the Imperial Capital, given his personality, he wouldn’t have written a letter of reminder but would have simply dug up the wine and brought it to him.

Liang Pingshan lay on the ground and said to him, “Go, while there’s still time. I know you’re from Bei Dou, but Bei Dou shouldn’t get involved in this kind of affair. After all, I’m just an insignificant piece in the Imperial Capital’s game, in this world’s game. I’ve already done what I needed to do.”

Dong Yeyun said, “I’m not a Bei Dou disciple.”

Liang Pingshan blinked, seeming surprised. He watched as Dong Yeyun laid out an Eight Meridian Formation, with star lines glowing faintly as they penetrated the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Something Zixi taught me, the only Eight Meridian Formation in the world that can transfer positions,” Dong Yeyun said. “But he said it’s unstable since it’s his creation. I haven’t practiced it many times either, so you’d better pray I succeed.”

Liang Pingshan shook his head slightly, “No need to waste star power.”

Dong Yeyun said, “I only want to do what I want to do. In this world, except for my father and sister, no one can stop me.”

Hearing this, Liang Pingshan’s eyes widened slightly, suddenly understanding why Dong Yeyun had such good relations with the Bei Dou disciples.

“Cough… you only tell me… before I die…” Liang Pingshan struggled to keep his eyes open as he looked at Dong Yeyun. “I’ve liked your sister for so long…”

Dong Yeyun frowned, “If you keep talking about this, you really will die.”

Actually, few people could guess from this statement, as most only remembered that Dong Yeshou had a daughter, never hearing anything about a son.

Liang Pingshan grinned, slowly raising his hand with fingers spread, looking through them at the star lines floating in the room. His gaze seemed to reach far away: “The first time I saw your sister was in the palace. She had just broken through to become a Pilgrim… standing in the crowd, extraordinarily dazzling, able to disregard the Imperial Capital’s nobles and prestigious families, even the Calligraphy Saint, and my father.”

Because she was powerful enough, she stood at the pinnacle of this continent.

When could one become as powerful as Ming Li?

Liang Pingshan would never forget seeing in Ming Li both the longing for strength and its cruelty.

But later, he learned from Dong Yeyun that perhaps becoming strong didn’t necessarily mean reaching the境境 in all eight meridians; sometimes it only required a tenacious heart.

Liang Pingshan had wanted to tell Dong Yeyun not to envy his sister, because he was strong too. But seeing Dong Yeyun’s gaze, he felt such words were unnecessary. So he smiled, his consciousness gradually becoming scattered, unable to focus his attention.

The slideshow of his life began to appear in his mind.

Liang Pingshan vaguely saw Dong Yeyun turn and leave the room filled with star lines, because outside, people had already gathered, and he needed to buy time for the formation to complete its operation.

“I want you to leave… you’re different from me…” Liang Pingshan spoke intermittently. “Your father wouldn’t let his child get hurt or die. My father is cunning, cruel, just like… like…”

Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth as Liang Pingshan’s raised hand fell. The star lines rotated rapidly, desperately trying to transport him away, just like their master.

If not for revenge, perhaps he would have been like Dong Yeyun, enjoying life as a traveler, stopping and going, meeting friends along the way, and then parting again.

But while Dong Yeyun’s destination was a warm home…

His destination was a cold grave.