"You think I'm lying to you, Grandfather?"
Yang Cheng said, "Two years ago, Aunt put Myriad Despair Divine Water in the milk I drank. If I hadn't dreamed of it in advance and avoided it, I'd be crippled by now. A crippled Crown Prince—what kind of end do you think I'd meet?"
Yun Qingcang couldn't stay calm anymore. "Is this true?"
"Whether it's true or not doesn't matter. Even if you knew, I doubt you would've cared."
Yang Cheng's tone was flat.
These things had already happened in his past life. Yun Qingcang had to have known eventually, but he never did anything.
Yun Qingcang's cloudy eyes narrowed slightly, then he smiled. "Now I really do believe you can see the future, you little rascal."
Then his smile faded again. He grew quiet. After a long pause, he slowly said, "We're not made of stone. Who wants to watch their daughter and grandson die? But if everything's already been set by fate, and no matter how hard you fight, the end is still destruction… then what's the point of struggling?"
Yang Cheng's young brows furrowed slightly.
There was something terrifying hidden behind those words.
"Why would you say that, Grandfather?"
He couldn't help asking.
"Your real grandmother was named Su Nian."
Yun Qingcang said.
That first sentence alone stunned Yang Cheng.
The current Madam of Duke Wei was called Xu Mengxi—not Su Nian.
"I didn't know where she came from. I don't even know why someone like her would look twice at me."
Yun Qingcang went on, "Xu Mengxi and I met her in a secret realm. She stood so high above us, like a goddess descending to the mortal world. In front of her, we were nothing but servants—listening to her orders without question. Later, I don't know what happened, but it seemed she went mad. And by some twist of fate, I ended up with her, and she became pregnant.
During those ten months, Xu Mengxi and I continued serving her like slaves until she gave birth to your mother. But just a month after giving birth, she vanished completely. That same night, I ran into someone."
He paused again, and this time, fear showed plainly on his face.
"Who?"
Yang Cheng asked.
"A man."
Yun Qingcang said painfully, "He told me that someone like me—a lowborn insect—had dared to defile the Holy Mother, and that my sin could never be redeemed. He said the day he came, he would erase me… and every drop of blood left behind by her. That meant me, your mother, and you—we're all doomed to die. So even if I tried my best to save you, it would've been pointless."
Yang Cheng said, "Heaven moves in strength; a noble man should strive constantly. As long as one doesn't give up, even the heavens can be defied. Grandfather, why give up on yourself?"
"Because you don't understand how powerful he is."
Yun Qingcang said, "That was just a thought-form of his—just a sliver of his will, projected across countless layers of starry skies into the Wasteland Realm—and it froze all space and time there. Even when facing true gods, I still had courage to fight. But the ones I've met, compared to him, were like ants. He was stronger than heaven itself. To me, he felt like the embodiment of the Dao."
Yang Cheng's breath caught slightly.
This being—he was coming to kill Grandfather, his mother, and even him?
Now he understood Yun Qingcang's despair.
In his past life, when he'd looked up at those Heaven's Chosen from the myriad worlds, he'd also felt that deep powerlessness.
And judging by Yun Qingcang's description, that man was even more terrifying than any of those Heaven's Chosen.
At least the gods Yang Cheng had met never had the power to freeze time and space.
Could he be a Martial Ancestor?
If that was the case, then who exactly was Grandmother?
But regardless of any of that, Yun Qingcang might have given up—Yang Cheng wouldn't.
In his last life, he'd already tasted despair to the fullest.
In this life, as long as he still had a breath left in him, even if the Heavenly Dao itself came to kill him—he would draw his sword.
Seeing Yang Cheng's expression, Yun Qingcang shook his head. He still thought the boy was too young to understand just how terrifying that man truly was.
Even a god would fall into despair facing someone like that.
Then he heard Yang Cheng speak.
"Thin wings ride the wind, yet still dare to rival the blazing torch dragon.
No thought for shattering body and bones—this will burns on.
The eternal night will end.
Even the faintest light dares to shine upon the moon at the edge of heaven.
Laughing mayflies still dream of shaking Kunlun, hearts made of iron.
Though I fall from the ninth heaven, I won't yield.
Even if the vast seas collapse, I will rise again.
Let the world turn upside down—I stand alone.
One drop of scarlet heartlight burns through endless night,
Three thousand worlds burn with falling leaves.
Watch the moth, turned to ash, still lighting the desolation—its flame unending!"
In that moment, Yang Cheng's eyes burned with a fierce light.
In his past life, he hadn't stood alone.
At his side were Zheng Guanbao, Lao Huang, and countless others who refused to kneel before fate.
So what if he was weak?
He had been a complete failure.
But he never gave up.
Faced with Heaven's Chosen from the myriad worlds—geniuses who stood above all like the sun and moon—he was no more than an ant.
He had bowed. He had knelt. All just to survive.
But in his heart, he never believed he was lesser.
So what if he was an ant?
Ants weren't necessarily lower than true dragons. And true dragons weren't inherently nobler than ants.
He wasn't the only one who thought that way.
That belief gathered people around him.
If not for them, there was no way he could have lasted 500 years against Yang Xiu.
Just thinking of those years of blood and fire made Yang Cheng's heart burn, his blood roar. His eyes blazed with fire, and his expression filled with longing.
Yun Qingcang stood frozen like he'd been struck by lightning.
But in those dim eyes, a faint flicker of light finally appeared.
"Grandfather, oh Grandfather… Moths fly to the flame—not because they don't know death, but because they cannot bear the eternal silence of night. Better to burn for one moment of light."
Yang Cheng clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky. "Between heaven and earth, strength and weakness are as chasm and stream, mountain and dust.
The strong hold up the sky. The weak bow to the ground. This is the way of the world.
But even the lowliest weed has will. Grass fears no wind—so it breaks through the soil.
A stream fears no abyss—so it flows on to the sea.
If you retreat from the strong, you'll crawl forever. But if you charge forward, even knowing you'll lose, your death will blaze like fire.
To be weak and not afraid—that is true courage.
To be small and unshaken—that shows true will."
Yun Qingcang couldn't stay calm anymore. Tears streamed down his aged face.
"Lastly, in a dream, a friend once spoke these words to me. Today, I pass them to you, Grandfather."
Yang Cheng smiled. "A flicker of light through endless calamity, dares to throw fragile wings into the fire. Even knowing I'll turn to ashes, I'll never bow to the dust of darkness.
Grandfather, I'll take my leave now. If the day ever comes when you find clarity, you can come find me anytime."
With that, he walked away without looking back.
He had said all he needed to say. No matter what Yun Qingcang thought, Yang Cheng himself had no regrets left.
Ding!
[Host has finally learned the truth about the Holy Mother, Su Nian, from Yun Qingcang.]
[Moreover, the host reversed life and death and revived Yun Qingcang—far beyond the mission's requirements.]
[Congratulations, mission complete.]
[Mission reward adjusted: Minor Stars Shift → Stars Shift and Worlds Turn.]