The master returned from the grave, the wife joined the chat and even the disciple refused to stay dead. No matter what, Xinzi had to respect these people's determination to struggle. And as a fan of beautiful tales, our monk could picture the heartbreaking reunion of master, wife and disciple, split by contradictions accumulated through 10,000 years of divergence. Then, in one way or another, they'd surmount their gaps, mend the bridges, and restore their kinship. Or they wouldn't and clash in tragic sword fights. One might get sacrificed along the way, but it'd only make the story that much more complete.
What a pity that Xinzi was part of the equation—destined to ruin this wonderful tale.
"If Heaven so wills it, I'm powerless to stop it." Our monk sighed in regret, sniffing as he imagined Qiu Meng's tortured look once he realized that his best shot, and knowledge of various futures, were still not enough to bring the Hengye clan down.
