The scenes of history stirred within that crimson hue, creating ripples.
Countless grains of sand swayed and flowed, emitting resplendent flowing light in the undercurrents of the river of time.
Outside the light, the Young Lord stared blankly at everything in front of him.
Back then, because his consciousness was isolated, he couldn't hear the words. At this moment, as the historical scenes flashed, he heard them all.
It turned out that everything about his childhood in the Immortal Palace was fake.
It turned out that his father's rebellion was to seek death.
It turned out that the reason for seeking death was to protect him.
His body trembled and tears streamed down his face as he looked at his father rushing toward the Venerable Immortal.
In the past, he didn't understand why his father did such a thing, and he couldn't forgive his grandfather, the Venerable Immortal.
