256: Old friends, gifts from the gods

Fatty Zhang cried like a three-hundred-pound child, his face smeared with snot and tears, as he gripped Lin Fan’s arm tightly, as if everything before him would turn into a bubble the moment he let go.

Zhao Linger buried her head in Lin Fan’s chest, her muffled sobs causing Lin Fan’s heart to throb with pain.

He did not speak.

He just stood there quietly, letting the two of them vent all their fear, grievance, and despair.

After a long time.

The sobbing in his arms gradually subsided, leaving only a slight trembling.

Lin Fan gently patted Zhao Linger’s back, helped her stand steady, and looked at her red and swollen eyes with a soft gaze.

Then, he turned to the still-sobbing Fatty Zhang and shook his head helplessly.

Finally, his gaze swept across the entire plaza.

The surviving Qingyun Sect Disciples were still frozen in place, like wooden carvings stunned by a thunderclap.

They looked at Lin Fan with eyes filled with extreme complexity.

There was the relief of surviving a disaster, the ecstasy of regaining what was lost, but more than anything, there was awe and alienation in the face of an unknown mighty power.

They did not dare to step forward.

They did not even dare to breathe loudly.

In their eyes, that figure in green robes was no longer the familiar Senior Brother Lin.

He was a god.

He was the savior.

He was a supreme existence that they could not understand or reach.

Lin Fan understood the distance in their eyes.

He remained silent for a moment.

He said nothing more.

He simply and calmly raised his right hand and gave a gentle wave toward all the injured Disciples on the plaza.

There was no earth-shattering surge of magic power.

There was no dazzling or eye-catching brilliance.

An invisible ripple, carrying a warmth like a spring breeze, spread silently outward with him as the center.

The ripple brushed over everyone's bodies.

A strange and sacred scene occurred.

One Disciple looked in disbelief at the bone-deep claw mark on his chest; the flesh was squirming and growing at a speed visible to the naked eye. In just a single breath, it was restored to its original state, without even a scar left behind.

Another Disciple, whose Meridians had been shattered and who lay limp on the ground, felt a warm current surge through his entire body. The blocked and broken Meridians were instantly cleared, and his originally depleted Dantian became even more full than it had been at its peak!

"My hand... my hand is healed!"

"The injuries... they're all gone!"

"My Cultivation... it seems to have even improved a bit!"

One after another, cries of surprise broke the dead silence.

All the healed Disciples looked as if they had seen a ghost, touching their intact bodies and feeling the unprecedented abundance of spiritual energy within them, their faces filled with shock and fervor.

This was not healing.

This was a reversal!

It was a state reset at the level of Law!

"Thump!"

Finally, a Disciple could not withstand the massive impact. His knees buckled, and he knelt heavily toward Lin Fan, his forehead pressed firmly against the ground.

He did not know what to say; he could only use this most primitive and devout way to express the tidal wave of reverence in his heart.

"Thump!"

"Thump! Thump!"

It was like the first domino falling.

On the plaza, all the surviving Qingyun Sect Disciples, regardless of gender or Cultivation level, all knelt down in unison at this moment.

It was a dense, dark mass of people.

One could hear a pin drop.

No one spoke.

But the burning, fanatical gazes mixed with endless worship that converged on Lin Fan said everything.

The chasm known as "Godhood" seemed to have become even higher and more distant.

Lin Fan looked at the kneeling crowd before him and sighed softly in his heart.

He took a step and slowly walked forward.

The kneeling Disciples, like the Red Sea before Moses, actively parted to both sides, clearing a path for him.

Lin Fan’s footsteps stopped in front of a young Junior Brother who looked to be only fifteen or sixteen, his face covered in tear stains and his eyes filled with immense reverence.

He remembered this Junior Brother; he was the one who had guided him when he first entered the sect, named Wang Er.

"Wang Er."

Lin Fan spoke, his voice indifferent.

The Junior Brother whose name was called trembled violently, as if struck by heavenly thunder, completely dazed.

He... He still remembers me?

In the heart of this god-like "Grandmaster Lin," there was actually a place for a nobody like me?

The immense joy and trepidation almost made him faint.

"Dis... Disciple is here!" Wang Er used all his strength to squeeze these few words out of his throat, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

Lin Fan looked at his terrified appearance, and a familiar, somewhat helpless smile appeared on his face.

"The injury on your leg, it's no longer a problem, right?"

The simple greeting was like a warm current, instantly piercing through all the awe and alienation in Wang Er’s heart.

He suddenly raised his head, looking at that face so close at hand, which bore a gentle smile.

The deity had vanished.

The person standing before him seemed to have turned back into that Senior Brother Lin who would pat him on the shoulder and tell him to Cultivate well.

"Wah—"

Wang Er could no longer hold it back and began to wail loudly, kowtowing vigorously as he cried.

"It's no longer a problem! It's all healed! Thank you... Thank you, Senior Brother Lin! Wuu wuu... Thank you, Senior Brother Lin!"

This cry of "Senior Brother Lin" caused the bodies of all the kneeling Disciples around to shudder.

They looked at the smile on Lin Fan’s face; that high-and-mighty divinity seemed to have faded, replaced by the familiar warmth of a "human."

Lin Fan said nothing more, only patting Wang Er’s shoulder.

"All of you, rise."

His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears.

Everyone looked at each other, hesitated for a moment, and then stood up one after another, though they still kept their heads bowed, not daring to look directly.

Lin Fan looked around.

The ruined plaza, the collapsed halls, the cracked mountain.

It was a scene of devastation.

"Qingyun Sect should not look like this."

He said softly.

In the next moment.

He slowly raised his hand.

This time, everyone held their breath, staring intently at his movements.

He opened his fingers toward the ruins and then gently closed them.

"Buzz—"

The entire Qingyun Main Peak shook violently.

Then.

A scene that everyone would never forget for the rest of their lives, enough to overturn their worldview, occurred.

Those bluestone slabs that had shattered into countless pieces were controlled by an invisible giant hand, flying up from the soil, automatically piecing together and fusing in mid-air, then silently falling back to the ground. The entire plaza was restored to being flat and smooth as new within a few breaths, without even a single crack to be found.

In that main hall that had been cut in half, countless broken walls, debris, bricks, and tiles soared into the sky, rapidly reorganizing in the air as if time were flowing backward, returning to its original majestic and magnificent appearance.

The hideous cracks on the mountain body slowly closed and disappeared under the invisible power.

Even the smell of blood permeating the air was purified completely under this power.

In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

The entire Qingyun Sect Main Peak was completely renewed.

No, it was even more grand and imposing than before; every blade of grass, every tree, every brick, and every tile faintly flowed with a hint of immortal and indestructible Dao rhyme.

Having done all this, Lin Fan retracted his hand, his expression not changing in the slightest.

It was as if he had only done a trivial little thing.

But in the eyes of all the Qingyun Sect Disciples, this was no longer a miracle.

This was creation!

Just then, Lin Fan’s brow furrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly.

He felt a hint of rejection.

A subtle sense of rejection coming from the world itself, from the Laws of this heaven and earth.

It was as if a healthy body was instinctively trying to reject an excessively powerful foreign object that did not belong to it.

His existence was a burden in itself to this fragile Lower Realm.

It seemed that the time left for him was not much.

He suppressed this bit of abnormality and turned his gaze back to the plaza.

Looking at those fellow Disciples who were completely stunned, like clay or wooden statues.

Looking not far away at Zhao Linger and Fatty Zhang, who were watching him with complex gazes mixed with worship, joy, love, and a hint of bewilderment.

Lin Fan’s heart was more peaceful than ever before.

His gaze passed through the crowd and looked toward the cloudless, clear sky.

Netherworld Palace.

Spirit Realm.

This "gift" was only for his family.

And the real bill was only just beginning to be prepared.