“Xiao Zhenqing, if I could, I'd want to be like you: not having to care about anything or pay any attention to it. But then I wouldn't be able to live with myself.” That was the first time he admitted that being an Immortal Venerable did not make him happy. The title might sound impressive, but it was nothing more than a shackle.
“This time, don't save all the people under heaven. Just save me, all right?” said the person with the face he loved most.
“All right.” How could he refuse? He had already lived once for someone else. This time, he had to live for himself.
