Xie Wuqing and I fought for three hundred years.
He cultivated his Way of Ruthlessness, while I practiced my Demon-Subduing Art.
Until the day my tribulation struck, and he took all eighty-one bolts of heavenly lightning for me.
As he lay dying, he suddenly chuckled. “Do you know why I never let you into my cave abode?”
In his sea of consciousness, I saw a wall covered with portraits of me, from my youth to the present day.
Beside them were all the personal belongings of mine that had “mysteriously gone missing” over the years.
Even the oldest wooden comb was one he'd stolen from me a century ago.
