Chapter 699. A Real Messenger From the Thunder Celestial Temple (1/2)

The moon was bright and the stars were sparkling.

The autumn wind accompanied Wang Lin’s voice and seemed like it was unwilling to leave the courtyard. The story of the youth on planet Suzaku contained a hint of sadness among the twists and turns. This feeling became even stronger with the autumn wind.

Qing Yi’s eyes had already shed countless tears as she silently listened. Half way through the story, Wang Ping lowered his head, so his face was hidden.

“After that, he brought the child over and settled down on planet Ran Yun…” When Wang Lin finished his story, he picked up the jag and drank a mouthful before silently staring at the sky.

Qing Yi stared at the father and son before her with an unknown emotion in her heart. She subconsciously grabbed Wang Ping’s hand and immediately found that his hands were completely cold.

The courtyard was extremely quiet. After a long time, Wang Ping softly said with his hoarse voice, “The story was very beautiful. Dad, I’m tired.” Wang Ping stood up and walked toward a side room in the courtyard. Qing Yi bowed to Wang Lin and followed Wang Ping.

Wang Lin was the only person remaining in the courtyard. He silently sat there and stared into the distance.

The coldness of the autumn wind reached its peak at night. It took some of the leaves far into the distance.

After an unknown amount of time, Wang Lin let out a sigh and lowered his head. He then picked up the jug to drink only to find that he was out of wine…

Wang Ping got no sleep that night.

He stared at the moon in the sky with pain in his eyes as he sat inside the room. Qing Yi only sat beside him and held his hand. She didn’t say anything and only silently accompanied him.

“It turns out… This was the answer… The answer I waited over sixty years for…” The pain in Wang Ping’s eyes became even stronger.

“It turns out I was refined into a resentful spirit by Mother…” Wang Ping lowered his head. His face was filled with bitterness and melancholy.

At the morning of the next day, Wang Ping left, and Qing Yi still followed him.

From beginning to end, he didn’t say a word to his father or even looked at his father. Even when he left, he did so early in the morning. He silently sat in the wagon and went far away from Vast Water City.

He didn’t notice that when he left, a gaze silently looked at the carriage from a distance. This gaze was filled with vicissitude…

Wang Lin walked out from the room, sat in the courtyard, and quietly looked at the sky. “Perhaps one day you will understand…” he muttered.

Wang Ping didn’t know where to go and was just blankly moving ahead. He felt very tired; it was as if nothing in this world could make him raise his head and take a look anymore.

Wang Ping whispered, “Qing Yi, I’m very tired. Let’s find a quiet mountain village to live in…”

Qiang Yi nodded. Her eyes were filled with tenderness.

Wang Ping and Qing Yi settled down in a ordinary mountain village and they lived a quiet life. They were no longer young, and the passage of his life often flashed across Wang Ping’s eyes.

His entire life was 18 years of ordinary life, eight years of travel, 25 years of battle, and ten years of being the supreme leader. Although it was a short life, it was more exciting than anything ordinary people would experience.

However, in the end he still returned to his starting point, back to his ordinary life. Every morning he would get up and carve wood in the yard. There was warmth in this ordinary life. Qing Yi would always sit behind him and watch with a soft gaze as he carved the wood stroke by stroke…

“Father once said that carving requires one to use their heart. Only then can all the memories be engraved on the carving.” Wang Ping held the carving before him and gently blew on it, causing all of the saw dust to fly up into the air.

After putting down the wood carving, Wang Ping’s eyes revealed a trace of nostalgia and he softly said, “This is the young father.”

The carving was Wang Lin. The young Wang Lin had fierce eyes, his hand was behind his bad, and he looked at the world with a proud aura.

Time flashed by and another ten years passed.

The passage of time wasn’t able to wash away the traces of the reincarnation cycle. Life and death continued, and no one could escape the path set by the heavens.

Ten years was a long time, yet it felt really short. This was a very contradicting feeling, but it was a true portrayal of how every mortal felt.

For Wang Lin, these ten years were short yet felt very long.

His haired turned white and was very long as if it hasn’t been groomed in a long time. His face was very old, and when he closed his eyes, he felt as if he had entered the reincarnation cycle.

During these ten years of calmness, his understanding of the heavens became even more clear and profound. He didn’t do this intentionally, he inadvertently and naturally gained enlightenment.