When Jing Lingzhen came to, released from the shackles of such an agonising memory, he found himself fully clothed in the Grandmaster's arms. His body felt refreshed and rejuvenated, brimming with the power and Qi of his peak years as the most feared immortal.
His crimson eyes fluttered open, meeting the familiar icy blue orbs of the man who was the wielder of his heart. He reached up to touch Han Xuelian's face, his eyes softening as he watched the Grandmaster eagerly lean into his touch.
"You're awake, sweetheart," Han Xuelian murmured, his arms wrapped so tightly around Jing Lingzhen, as if he feared he would lose him. "What happened? You were unconscious for a while."
"I...remembered something unpleasant," Jing Lingzhen said, his gaze narrowing with aged guilt and sin. "I remembered…the day I slew my heavenly mother."
