Looking Back Ten Thousand Miles, Old Friends Forever Severed, Part 1

“Mu Hanyuan—!!”

A heart-wrenching cry tore through the silence of the night.
Yun Yao bolted upright on her couch.

Before her was pitch darkness, but the last image in her memory was that all-consuming black hole capable of swallowing Qianyuan entirely. After it devoured the final wisp of Mu Hanyuan’s malevolent soul, it abruptly collapsed into a single point in the void.

From that point burst a golden light of heavenly law, leaving no room for resistance, enveloping her and the Wheel of Reincarnation—

And then?
Had she returned to the immortal realm?

Yun Yao gazed around, clinging to a final shred of hope—the immortal realm shouldn’t have such darkness.

If she hadn’t returned, the temporal black hole formed by the collapse of causality hadn’t yet completed its sacrifice.
Then, Mu Hanyuan’s malevolent soul might still…
Still…

*Rustle.*

A single candle flame sparked in the quiet divine palace.
Darkness retreated as the flame, like a fiery butterfly, danced and spread to every golden lamp in the hall, illuminating the vast space in warm, glowing light.

Yun Yao froze on the couch.

The candlelight felt like piercing, inescapable blades, cutting her to the core.

Because she recognized this place—
This was the main hall of the Fate Palace’s forbidden grounds, the Origin Divine Palace, her solitary home in the immortal realm for over ten thousand years.
Being here meant… meant the black hole had claimed its sacrifice.

That wisp of soul was gone forever.

“…”

A silent agony surged through her chest.
Yun Yao curled up, pressing her reddened eyes to her knees.

“…Master.”

By a metal palace lamp, a snow-white robe brushed past, a soft call falling from the candlelight.

Yun Yao’s eyes trembled as she lifted them, but she dared not turn. She stared ahead—
Until a clear figure stepped into her view.

Her gaze shook, tracing his robes, his ink-black hair, finally settling on his ethereal face. It was identical, yet instantly distinguishable.

This was Mu Hanyuan.
But not *that* Mu Hanyuan.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Her voice rasped, hoarse, half-crying, half-laughing. “…He’ll never come back.”

Mu Hanyuan sat silently by the couch.
From his snow-white sleeve, a pale wrist extended, his slender fingers holding a cup of medicinal tea, offering it to her.
“Master, your spirit is overtaxed. This is calming tea I prepared for you.”

“…”

Yun Yao stared at the tea, her vision blurring like a mirage.

*[…Drink it all.]*
*[The Green Wood old man brewed it. If you doubt it, shall I break his limbs and have him make it before you to ease your mind?]*
*[If he weren’t the best at immortal medicine, you think I’d bother with him?]*
*[Drink it. Not a drop left.]*
*[Taste good?]*
*[Open your mouth.]*
*[Theirs was too impure. You wouldn’t let me kill them, and drawing a bit was useless.]*
*[I fought Calamity and took some of his energy.]*
*[What are you looking at? Focus on circulating it…]*

In the memories of her time as a lesser fairy, that figure, always laced with malice and cold weariness, overlapped with the man before her, yet diverged.

He forced her to take medicine.
He always spoke harshly to her.
He braved heavenly wrath to fetch mortal candies for her.
He fought Calamity, returning bloodied, just to steal a strand of immortal energy that harmed his demonic body to prolong her life…

Tears welled in Yun Yao’s eyes.
Her voice trembled. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“…Yes.”

Mu Hanyuan set down the golden cup, his sleeve brushing over a faint red mist tinged with blood on his wrist, which he covered.

Almost cruelly, he lifted his calm, clear eyes. “He’s dead, and the Three Realms wouldn’t allow him to live.”

“I know… I know.”

Yun Yao murmured, comforting herself, though it was futile. She felt as if she were submerged in the unmelting Heavenly Cold Jade beyond the Ninth Heaven’s gates, trembling, eyes red.
She whispered, “I know his sins are unforgivable, but… but…”

Her words choked, unable to continue.

Mu Hanyuan’s gaze, deep as an abyss, watched her, brimming with countless emotions—nostalgia, longing, reluctance…
But he suppressed them all.

He leaned forward, pulling Yun Yao into his arms.

Only when her sobs quieted did he speak softly. “If Master wishes to see him, I can always be him for you.”

“What…?”
Yun Yao looked up, stunned.

“In the Wheel, our memories merged. If Master wants him to stay, I can…”

“Stop.” Yun Yao snapped, her voice still thick with tears.

He seemed not to hear, continuing, “It might be hard to fully become him, but—”

Unable to bear it, Yun Yao grabbed his collar, yanking him back against the hard bedpost.
It must have hurt.

But his gaze, meeting her furious face, carried a faint, captivating smile.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen Master cry.”
His fingers, warm and dry, brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear glistening in the candlelight.
He crushed it between his fingers, feeling its dampness, as if asking with his heart, “If I had been the soul sacrificed to the black hole, would Master cry like this for me?”

“—!”

Yun Yao, exasperated, saw his fingers lingering near her eyes.
Without thinking, she bit down hard.

She didn’t hold back, earning a half-stifled grunt, which turned into a low, throaty laugh.

“…”
Yun Yao fumed. “You’re still laughing?”

“Master shared deep bonds with him, not me.”

She wondered if she imagined the emphasis on “deep bonds” when he continued softly, “If the End died, the Three Realms would celebrate.”

“…”

Yun Yao choked.
It was true, but hearing it now…
Why was his benevolent side, so compassionate toward beings, so callous toward his malevolent self?

Then, gazing at Mu Hanyuan and the candlelit hall, she pinpointed what felt strangest.

“Wait. You haven’t ascended—how are you here—”
She paused, recalling how she’d pushed him into the Wheel’s petal to stop his sacrifice in the Tianyun Abyss.
“…Did the Wheel bring you to the immortal court?”

“I thought Master intended it.”

His brow rippled faintly. “Did Master only mean to return alone, not with me?”

“The immortal realm is in turmoil. Bringing you here now does you more harm than good.”

As she spoke, she recalled words Mu Jiutian had said in Yao City before she entered the demon realm—

*[If one day you could bring someone to ascend, among Qianyuan’s millions, who would you choose?]*

Yun Yao: “…”
It was pure coincidence, not her intent.

Before she could feel guilty toward her brother in the mortal realm, she remembered Mu Jiutian’s next question.

*[If ascension fails and you die in Qianyuan, who’d you choose to share your coffin for eternity?]*

“…”

*[Let’s die together, alright, let’s die together… Master.]*
*[My sins are unforgivable.]*
*[Master’s immortal soul shall live as long as heaven, eternal through eons.]*

“…”

In the flickering candlelight, shadows seemed to hide a black hole swallowing that figure.
Yun Yao’s expression dimmed again.

“Master?”

His soft voice pulled her back.
Steeling herself, she looked up. “What’s the state of the immortal realm now?”

“Hm?” Mu Hanyuan seemed puzzled, his gaze calm and clear.

“The Wheel may alter Qianyuan, but not the immortal realm. Before he left the court… he caused such chaos. How was it resolved?”
She frowned slightly.
“The Wheel’s return must’ve caused a stir. Any reactions from the divine palaces?”

“You worry too much, Master.”
He replied gently, soothingly. “The Wheel was likely overtaxed. It fell dormant upon returning, causing no disturbance.”

Yun Yao, already off the couch and in her boots, hesitated. “Truly?”

“Does Master not trust even me?”

“…”

In his starlit eyes reflecting the candlelight, Yun Yao averted her gaze sheepishly. “No, I—”

“Is Master already seeing me as him?”

“…Enough.” Yun Yao gritted her teeth.

Mu Hanyuan relented, his perfectly timed hint of grievance vanishing.
Noticing her boots, he rose, knelt, and gently lifted her ankle.

“?”

Startled, Yun Yao instinctively tried to pull back.

But his few fingers held her ankle firmly, and she couldn’t break free, watching as he personally removed her boots.
“What are you doing? I need to go out—”

“As Master said, with Origin’s return, the immortal realm faces turmoil,” he said calmly, looking up from his knelt position. “Your soul is damaged, your power diminished. Rest in the Origin Divine Palace a while longer before handling the Three Realms’ affairs.”

“…”

As he removed her boots and socks, Yun Yao tried to stop him, but gave in halfheartedly.

This mortal journey had left her exhausted.
But…

She pulled the thin quilt he’d placed over her down a bit. “Is there truly nothing in the immortal court needing my attention?”

“Nothing.”
He seemed slightly helpless, handing her the cup. “Drink this tea first, to calm your mind.”

She hesitated, sniffing the cup and wrinkling her nose. “I don’t really want…”

Before she finished, he cut in softly. “Legend says the first of the Three Saints, Saint Origin, graces the Three Realms with unmatched elegance, flawless in virtue. Surely a mere cup of tea isn’t beyond you?”

Yun Yao: “…The flawless Saint Origin isn’t swayed by provocation.”

He sighed lowly. “Must Master force my hand?”

“…”
She tensed. “You wouldn’t force-feed me too, would you?”

“I’m not him. How could I bear to?” He gave a faint, barely noticeable smile, still ethereal as a flawless moon.
He looked at her, holding the cup. “Truly unwilling, Master?”

“I’m not—”

“If Master refuses,” he frowned slightly, “I’ll have to feed you myself.”

Yun Yao: “…?”

Snatching the cup, she drank it in one gulp, then pulled the quilt over herself, covering tightly. “I’m resting now.”

Mu Hanyuan took the empty cup, extinguished the hall’s candles, and walked out silently.

The hall’s door opened.
He stepped out.
The heavy doors closed behind him.

The moment they shut, golden chains like vines climbed the ancient doors, sealing the Origin Divine Palace layer by layer until the final lock clicked.

*Clank.*

The sound settled.

Mu Hanyuan, his expression gone, looked up at the endless immortal court, its mountains like a forest—
The court, meant to be wreathed in auspicious clouds and radiant light, was now swallowed by an inky night.

It was the power of the End, representing despair and destruction—

Since the malevolent End reversed time and descended to Qianyuan, the flames of the End he left, enveloping Primordial Mountain, had spiraled out of control, spreading across the immortal realm’s Six Directions and Eight Deserts.
Until today.

If the End’s power fully consumed it, the immortal court would face eternal night, all immortals slain, forever fallen.

The only sanctuary left was…

Mu Hanyuan looked up at the untarnished Ninth Heaven.

On the Ninth Heaven stood Yuling Immortal Mountain, home to one of the Three Saints, who governed crime and punishment.

“So this is the world-ending calamity you truly feared, Calamity.”

Finally understanding the root of it all, Mu Hanyuan gazed at the divine figure above the heavens, his eyes mocking and cold.

—

At the other end, on the Ninth Heaven, Yuling Immortal Mountain.

Two immortal lords on duty at the reception platform stared anxiously and fearfully at the inky “night” surging below.

“The End Demon Lord is outrageously bold, daring to ambush during Saint Origin’s return, even imprisoning them in the Fate Palace!”

“Indeed, utterly audacious.”
The other frowned. “But I can’t fathom why. The End’s power is unstoppable, and the Eight Deserts are falling, countless immortals turned into puppets. He could rest easy—why go to such lengths to imprison Saint Origin?”

“Why else? Didn’t Saint Calamity say? The End Demon Lord and Saint Origin are fated enemies under the cosmic calamity! Only by fully destroying Saint Origin can the End ascend to sainthood—”

The duty immortal looked below with fear and pity.

“The End Demon Lord is brutal and bloodthirsty! I’d wager he’s in the Origin Divine Palace now, tormenting and humiliating Saint Origin, forcing them to yield the saintly throne!”