Player 0

The preliminary press conference in the Golden Fortress was a grand spectacle, bustling with excitement and energy.

Meanwhile, in Whale-Fall City, Daoist Wu was living a life of indulgence and excess.

Wu Qiong lay alone on his enormous bed, rolling back and forth, muttering as if summoning a spirit, "Qingqing, come out and talk to me! Shuang'er's not here today—no one will find out if you come."

He called for ages, but not even a ghostly shadow appeared. Bored, he shut his eyes and began to doze off.

In Wu Qiong's memory, the most adorable version of Bai Qing was when he was six or seven years old. Back then, Bai Qing would run into Wu Qiong's arms every day when he got home, snuggling up to him and pestering him to cook all sorts of delicious food.

If only Bai Qing could have stayed that innocent forever—unaware of his origins, with a heart pure and transparent like glass.

But, sadly, children grow up. Later, when Bai Qing entered middle school, he started rebelling. Then he went to university, and that's when he discovered the truth about his life.

Those filthy, unspeakable secrets that Wu Qiong could barely bring himself to utter revealed themselves to Bai Qing, one after another, like layers of skin being peeled away.

Bai Qing had trusted Wu Qiong with all his heart. In his eyes, Wu Qiong was his real father.

But the truth? Wu Qiong was his father's murderer.

Not only had Wu Qiong killed Bai Qing's biological father—he then pretended as if nothing had happened and raised Bai Qing from childhood.

How could Bai Qing endure such a cruel fate? How could he face it?

Wu Qiong had repented. He'd felt guilt. But spilled water cannot be gathered back, and the dead cannot return.

No matter how many times Wu Qiong whispered "I'm sorry" into the endless night, he could never cover up the monstrous sins he had committed against the Bai family.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Wu Qiong muttered in his nightmare.

Even though he knew the damage was done, he still hoped Bai Qing might offer him just a shred of forgiveness.

"Uncle Qiong?" A strong hand turned Wu Qiong over and moved the arm he'd been pressing against his chest. "You had another nightmare?"

Wu Qiong slowly opened his eyes and saw a dashing, poised soldier sitting beside the bed.

Bai Qing was dressed in a forest green uniform, the crisp fabric enhancing his sharp and heroic presence.

"Qingqing!" Wu Qiong threw his arms around the young man and burst into sobs. "I'm sorry! I regret everything! I killed your father, and he never forgave me—not even to the end!"

"Uncle Qiong," Bai Qing gently combed through Wu Qiong's hair. "Your biggest flaw is that you always shoulder other people's sins as your own. Why must you blame yourself for my father's death?"

Wu Qiong recalled the vision from his dream just moments ago, an indescribable sorrow surging through him like waves.

Some memories were fragmented, illogical—he couldn't tell whether they were dream or reality. "He trusted me so much. He followed me around calling me 'Dad' from the time he could talk. And I drove him to his death. He was so disappointed in me—he was crushed to death by falling rocks!"

Bai Qing patted Wu Qiong's trembling back, soothing him. "On behalf of my father, I forgive you. So please… let yourself go."

Something suddenly occurred to Wu Qiong. He looked up, voice trembling in desperation. "Qingqing, can you see your father? Can you bring him here? I want to say sorry to him in person…"

Bai Qing paused for a second, then gave a stiff nod.

Wu Qiong lit up with joy. He hastily wiped away his tears and looked at Bai Qing expectantly. "When can you bring him? When will he come to see me?"

Bai Qing gently caressed Wu Qiong's tear-streaked face with his fingertips. Such a lovely, bashful smile—what a pity to ruin it with tears.

He laid Wu Qiong back down and said softly, "I'll go call him now. He'll be here soon."

Wu Qiong's eyes were full of anticipation, nodding eagerly like a puppy, waiting for Bai Qing to orchestrate a reunion that defied death and time.

Bai Qing cast one last glance at Wu Qiong before fading into the darkness.

The room fell silent again. Wu Qiong waited—emotions crashing over him like a tidal wave.

He wanted so badly to see Bai Yuan again. But he was also afraid—afraid Bai Yuan wouldn't want to see him at all. After all, Bai Yuan had chosen to die with his wife and child in a rockslide—just to escape ever seeing Wu Qiong again.

Only seconds had passed in reality, but to Wu Qiong, it felt like crossing billions of light-years.

Then, at last, a tiny voice echoed from the corner of the room. A young man stood in the shadows, whispering, "Papa?"

Every hair on Wu Qiong's body stood on end.

He had waited for this moment for a hundred years!

"Bai Yuan!" Wu Qiong leapt from the bed, rushed into the corner, and fell to his knees. "I'm sorry! I regret it so much! I've spent my whole life regretting! I know I was wrong!"

"Papa." Bai Yuan slowly knelt too, embracing Wu Qiong. "I regret it too. After I died, I realized I was an irresponsible son, an irresponsible husband, an irresponsible father. I thought dying would solve everything—but it only made things worse."

"It's my fault!" Wu Qiong insisted. "All my fault! I don't ask for your forgiveness… just promise me you won't meet someone like me in your next life…"

BANG! Wu Qiong's apology was cut short as Bai Yuan suddenly vanished from his arms into thin air. At the same time, a loud crash echoed from behind—a door was kicked open!

Bai Shuang stormed in and turned on every light in the room. Harsh beams from all directions made it impossible for Wu Qiong to keep his eyes open.

Bai Shuang's eyes were sharp like lightning as she scanned every inch of the room.

Wu Qiong was still kneeling, shaking with sobs. He choked out, "Shuang'er… Why are you back so soon? Is the press conference over?"

Bai Shuang's gaze was fierce. After a sweep of the room, she said coldly, "If I hadn't come back, your soul would've been dragged off by a vengeful ghost."

Wu Qiong sighed. "That was your grandfather—how could you say that about him? Even if he came to take my soul, I owe it to your family."

Bai Shuang's tone turned mocking. "No wonder he was a ghost who cultivated for a hundred years—his brainwashing skills are top-notch. My grandfather clearly died in a car crash because he didn't know how to drive. But he still won't stay dead—haunting your dreams like a parasite."

"Don't talk nonsense!" Wu Qiong snapped. He stood and looked Bai Shuang in the eye. "He told me just now… he regretted his choices when he was young. He didn't hypnotize me. He just wanted to talk."

"Fine," said Bai Shuang. "You two chat all you want. I won't get in the way."

She dimmed the lights and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Once again, only Wu Qiong remained in the room. He stood there in a daze, unsure whether he was still dreaming—or if he had truly returned to reality.