35: Chapter 35 The Prince Replaced by a Civet Cat

The man was dead!

The arm pressing the broken blade completely lost its strength, falling limply.

His head, which had been hanging low and was stained with blood, finally slumped heavily to one side.

It struck the cold, rough stone with a heavy thud.

Emitting a dull, soft sound.

And then, silence.

Only the broken blade in front of him remained.

Half of the blade was solidified in dark red and black blood clots, the other half exposed beneath the firelight.

The edge, facing several fresh white marks ground into the stone, shimmered with a faint, desolate cold light in the flickering flames.

The barely perceptible breathing from within the swaddling clothes became the only Life Qi in this dead, dilapidated temple.

As faint as a candle in the wind.

The shadow beneath Ding Qing's hat brim deepened.

His dark gaze was like two bottomless cold pools.

It slowly moved from the rapidly cooling body to the small swaddling clothes.

Finally, it settled on the withered, deathly still face of the Old Daoist in Yellow Robes.

The cold wind outside the temple whined as it swept in, making the bonfire flicker and sway, stretching the shadows of the three people inside the dilapidated temple like dancing specters.

The cold wind outside the temple whined as it swept in.

The air solidified for a long time.

Only the crackling of flames licking the firewood and the faint, almost imperceptible breathing of the infant remained.

"Old Scoundrel,"

Ding Qing's voice finally broke the silence.

Low, hoarse, with a cold quality that pierced the stillness.

"Earlier in the city, I made a move, and it attracted those 'obsession'.

He paused, his gaze like a solid ice pick, stabbing at the Old Daoist in Yellow Robes.

"But we escaped, and we even met this man... and the child in his arms."

Ding Qing's jawline tightened as he asked, word by word:

"Does this count as... changing this damned 'past'?

Or, is everything we did, including attracting the obsession, escaping here, and running into this unlucky fellow... inherently part of this past, destined to be experienced?"

The Old Daoist in Yellow Robes' cloudy eyes rotated violently.

For the first time, his withered face showed an extremely obvious expression, mixed with immense confusion and astonishment.

It was a violent shaking after his cognitive Foundation had been pried loose.

He stared intently at the dead Blade Master, then suddenly looked up at the dark night sky outside the temple.

As if sensing some invisible threads of rules that maintained this 'Past Imprint'.

After a long time, he finally moved his cracked and bleeding lips with difficulty, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing together:

"This... old man... also... cannot say."

This answer was completely different from his previous resolute statements of 'the trajectory is irreversible' and 'the outcome is set'!

It carried unprecedented hesitation and confusion.

In the depths of his cloudy eyes, tumultuous waves surged.

"The obsession have been stirred, Baiye City... may have already turned into a dead zone... this is absolutely not how it should be in the original imprint!"

"The trajectory... has already deviated!"

"But..."

His emaciated fingers trembled.

"The imprint... is not broken... time... is still flowing, and we... are still within it!"

This was what truly made him feel horrified, even incoherent.

The imprint of the past seemed to possess a resilience, or... inclusiveness, beyond his comprehension.

It didn't collapse due to interference.

Instead, in a strange way, it incorporated them, continuing to operate.

This overturned his established cognition.

Could it be that their very existence, and even their interference, had become an inseparable part of this 'past'?

Were they intruders, or... were they originally unwritten characters in the past?

"Heh,"

Ding Qing let out a low, cold sneer, interrupting the Old Daoist's confused thoughts.

He slowly stood up.

His tall figure, illuminated by the firelight, was like the projection of a demon god crawling out of the lava of Hell, and the oppressive feeling instantly filled the entire dilapidated temple.

He took a step forward, closing in on the Old Daoist in Yellow Robes.

In the shadow beneath his hat brim, his eyes glowed terrifyingly, flashing with a sharp light like a drawn blade.

"Since the obsession were drawn, and this broken place hasn't collapsed, and we haven't been erased... does that mean that although we can't change the outcome of this past..."

Ding Qing's voice was decisive, carrying an undeniable penetrative power.

"But some things within it, like who died, who lived, who appeared where, and even... who attracted the obsession.

These 'details' can actually be stirred up?!"

"…"

The Old Daoist in Yellow Robes was struck by lightning, his withered body suddenly trembling violently!

His cloudy pupils instantly contracted to their extreme.

Reflected within them was Ding Qing's face, cold as iron, yet flashing with astonishing insight.

"The grand... trend cannot be changed... but minor... trends can be shifted?!"

These eight words were like a thunderclap from the Nine Heavens.

They shattered the deeply ingrained belief in his mind that the Past Imprint was completely solidified and unchangeable.

Yes! Yes!

He had been completely shackled by his own cognition and past experiences.

He had always clung to the absolute nature of 'the trajectory is irreversible'.

Yet, he had overlooked the complexity and assimilation inherent in this 'imprinted past' itself.

It was not dead words carved in stone, but a segment of time that possessed a grand trend, yet allowed minor trends to vary within a certain range.

He stared intently at Ding Qing.

In his cloudy eyes, shock, realization, bitterness.

And even a hint of indescribable... admiration, wildly intertwined and surged.

After a long while, he let out a long and complex sigh from deep in his throat.

The sigh seemed to drain his last bit of strength, yet it also carried a weary clarity, like the parting of clouds to reveal the sun:

"The younger generation... is formidable! Truly formidable, Little Friend Ding..."

He seemed to truly see the essence of this young man for the first time.

It was not merely brute force, but also a terrifying intuition, almost like a beast's, that could pierce through fog and reach the essence!

"If you can... live... and grow up..."

The Old Daoist's gaze seemed to penetrate the roof of the dilapidated temple, cast towards a more distant, more vague future.

"Perhaps... our era... truly has a glimmer of hope..."

Ding Qing had no interest in the Old Daoist's sentiments.

What he cared about was only the confirmed answer: 'minor trends can be shifted'!

This answer was like a spark.

Instantly igniting a long-suppressed, extremely bold, even insane idea in his heart.

His gaze shifted from the Old Daoist in Yellow Robes' face, suddenly pinning itself on the straw pile.

Pinning itself on the dead Blade Master.

Finally, it locked firmly onto the slightly rising and falling, small swaddling clothes.

Since the original Blade Master couldn't be found...

The owner of that broken blade, the key figure who should have led them to the town object.

Perhaps he had died in this deviated minor trend, perhaps he never appeared...

But what did that matter?

Since minor trends could be shifted, since the imprint of the past could accommodate change...

The corner of Ding Qing's mouth beneath his hat brim slowly curved into a cold, fierce, yet almost wildly ambitious arc.

Then he would personally create a new Blade Master!

A Blade Master who lived only for that World-Ending War.

A Blade Master who could lead them to the town object.

A Blade Master who belonged to them!