Solitary Life . . .
Zhao Pingtian furrowed his brows as he delved into deep thought, struggling to decipher the mysterious mention of "laugh" in the fortuneteller's words. He reflected on his solitary existence in the martial world, characterized by regrets and sorrow. Laughter was a rarity in his life, and he couldn't find any connections to that word in his experiences.
Meanwhile, Cha Eun Xiao sat across from Zhao Pingtian, his mind racing with realization. The fortuneteller's prophecy was strikingly familiar, and he couldn't help but be taken aback by the implications.
[Laugh? Could it really be referring to me?]
As the pieces fell into place, he thought, [A clear conscience in your heart, a smiling monarch it leads you to. I am the Monarch. Xiao Monarch!
Struggle for two lives, brightness in one life. It might be ambiguous, but the reference to "struggle for two lives" certainly aligns with my own journey.
One laugh at present life, the other at the road he comes; one laugh at the time, the other at the ancient!
It all points to me. No one else.]
The realization that these cryptic phrases seemed to describe his own life filled Cha Eun Xiao with astonishment. He couldn't fathom how a fortuneteller could make such an accurate prediction. The prophecy left him feeling both intrigued and unnerved.
As Zhao Pingtian continued to ponder the verses and mentioned that the fortuneteller didn't predict his meeting with "Feng Monarch," Cha Eun Xiao found himself in a dilemma. He couldn't disclose the truth behind the fortuneteller's words, as it would reveal his identity as Xiao Monarch.
He hesitated and eventually responded, "It is impossible to foresee the future. Mister Destiny has already made a wonderful prediction. He has done a great job already. There should be some flaws in it, reasonably. The world is not perfect, and predictions can't be either. There is no doubt that Mister Destiny's prediction is happening. He said 'a couple will meet again, if only they have a laugh.' There must be a reason for this. It will come true someday."
Zhao Pingtian concurred, reaffirming his faith in the prediction. He was certain that the day mentioned by the fortuneteller would arrive.
Cha Eun Xiao, relieved that he had avoided revealing his identity, shifted the conversation to a different topic. He asked Zhao Pingtian about the transformative effects of the Yang Fruit and whether his path to becoming a killer king had been influenced by the fruit's attributes. He was curious about the changes Zhao Pingtian had undergone.
"Not really. I have endured numerous hardships throughout my life, but one thing remains unwavering: my commitment to honesty and integrity," Zhao Pingtian said, gazing at the sky as he sighed deeply.
Cha Eun Xiao sensed the profound sorrow that accompanied Zhao Pingtian's sigh, and it resonated with him, invoking his own sense of melancholy.
[While he may have upheld truth and honesty in his dealings with others, what has he experienced within himself?]
Zhao Pingtian continued his narrative, recounting the pivotal moment when he had placed the Yin Fruit on Rou-Er's grave and witnessed its fusion with her body. The joy of that moment was short-lived as Rou-Er did not return. Overcome with despair, Zhao Pingtian had left his hometown and embarked on a journey, wandering through the world.
Several years later, a recollection stirred within him, reminding him that his master, well-versed in the mysteries of Yin Yang Fruits, might hold the key to understanding the Yin Fruit's connection to Rou-Er. He returned to his sect with hopes of seeking his master's guidance.
Upon his return, he was met with a heart-wrenching sight—his sect had been decimated, with over three hundred lives lost. A pang of regret pierced his heart as he realized he had been unaware of the tragedy that had befallen his sect. He had been wandering aimlessly, oblivious to the suffering his brothers and masters had endured. His selfishness weighed heavily upon him, and he considered himself a failure who had forsaken his own sect.
Zhao Pingtian's smile was tinged with sorrow as he confessed, "In those years, as I slept at night, I would dream of my master, elders, and fellow sect members. They felt so vivid and real. These dreams fueled my determination to seek vengeance for my sect. I traversed every corner of the world in pursuit of our enemies and a way to exact retribution. It became evident to me that vengeance required resources. I needed funds to acquire information about our adversaries, to sustain myself, and to meet various needs. So, I took on assignments that involved bounty hunting, thus entering the world of assassins."
"Fifteen years later, I finally tracked down those responsible for the destruction of my sect. One by one, I avenged my brothers and masters, bringing their heads back to honor their memory."
But as he reflected on the years that had passed, he confessed to another deep regret. "During the years when I avenged my sect, I failed to fulfill another long-neglected duty. It had been many years since I left Rou-Er's grave, and in all that time, I had done nothing for my parents or hers. I had been a poor son, consumed by my own selfish desires. I was a pitiable and unfilial wretch."
"Perhaps the heavens granted me an opportunity to make amends. When I returned home, I was astonished to find my parents and Rou-Er's parents still alive. They had aged, but they were living. I had ignored martial world affairs for a time, leading the life of a farmer in my hometown. I cared for the four elderly members of our families until they passed away. But as I felt I had fulfilled my duty, I sold everything in my hometown and returned to the martial world. Deep within my heart, I held steadfast to the belief that Rou-Er and I were not yet at the end of our journey."