Chapter 292 The Thirty-Seventh Day of Entering a Xuanhuan Novel (Extra 2)

Chapter 292: The Thirty-Seventh Day in a Fantasy Novel (Bonus Story 2)

Time had long since stopped keeping strict count for them.

A thousand years, five thousand years, ten thousand years... before such nearly boundless stretches of time, even these seemed nothing more than a snap of the fingers.

An Yi and Xie Xuandu remained together, roaming across mountains and rivers, sometimes melting into the bustling streets, sometimes wandering through the mortal world—days of quiet serenity that felt as if they could stretch on to the very end of the universe.

Yet even one as extraordinarily gifted as Xie Xuandu, who had long since reached the pinnacle of this world, eventually grazed that barrier amid the relentless current of time.

It was not a decline in power, nor the aging of the body, but a fundamental limit to his lifespan quietly drawing near.

More subtly, Xie Xuandu's supremely keen spiritual senses began to detect a faint, elusive distance emanating from An Yi—something that seemed to be slowly pulling away from him.

It was not a change in emotion, but rather... a sign that their very existences were about to diverge.

An Yi seemed not to notice, or perhaps he had long since accepted every possibility with calm acceptance.

Until a certain dusk when the setting sun bled crimson.

They stood atop a lonely peak above a sea of clouds, gazing down at the surging cloud waves below and the enormous sun sinking in the distance.

Xie Xuandu did not, as was his custom, embrace An Yi from behind and whisper those tender, lingering words of love.

He just stood quietly at An Yi's side, taking his hand.

His palm was unusually cold, as if every trace of warmth had been drained from it.

"An Yi." He spoke, his voice still gentle, yet lacking some of its usual mirth: "I think... my time is nearly up."

An Yi stiffened almost imperceptibly. He slowly turned his head to look at him.

His eyes clearly mirrored a look of dazed bewilderment.

He opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something—perhaps "No," perhaps "There's still a way"—but in the end, he only gripped the icy hand more tightly, and all his words condensed into a single simple syllable: "Mm."

He could feel it.

He could feel the vitality that had flourished within Xie Xuandu for ten thousand years, now quietly ebbing away, irreversible, like a star about to burn out.

He could also feel the invisible shackles that had always lingered over this world, binding all living beings, now clearly manifesting at the terminus of Xie Xuandu's fate.

Xie Xuandu looked at him, and a smile slowly unfurled across his face.

That smile was unlike any before—stripped of all pretense, carrying only the deepest gentleness and reluctance.

He raised his other hand, gently caressing An Yi's cheek, his fingertips tracing, with lingering tenderness, the contours long etched into his very soul.

"Don't be sad." He said softly: "To have been able to walk beside you for these ten thousand years, I am already luckier than any living being in this world."

He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to An Yi's brow: "You need to take care of yourself from now on. Don't miss me after I'm gone—I'm already content."

Under An Yi's gaze, his smile slowly faded: "I was lying. I can't bear to leave you. I truly can't bear to go."

He paused, his phoenix eyes shimmering with a final glimmer of light: "I know that you... may be about to journey to a place I cannot reach."

He could dimly perceive the gulf between An Yi and himself.

His voice grew softer and softer: "I can no longer keep up... but I don't want it to end like this. I once swore that if we were to fall into the bitter sea of samsara, I would burn my very soul to protect you, never letting you walk alone."

"Now I must go ahead..."

He released An Yi's hand and, from the innermost fold of his robes, withdrew a smooth, lustrous white jade thumb ring.

It was the first item he had crafted himself after leaving the quiet Taoist temple in his youth, and it had been with him his whole life.

"An Yi... my An Yi..." With the last of his strength, he raised the ring between them, his gaze locked tightly onto An Yi's eyes, carrying a plea: "Allow me... to be selfish one last time."

He said: "Take me with you... please?"

Take him away—don't leave him all alone in this world.

He closed his eyes. The last remnants of his power, along with the very essence of his soul—that stubborn, burning passion that had endured ten thousand years—were stripped away, compressed, and condensed without hesitation through a forbidden secret art that defied heaven.

A gentle stream of light emerged from between his brows, like a weary bird returning to its nest, sinking without hesitation into the white jade ring.

The ring was instantly bathed in a gentle, subdued spiritual glow, as though infused with eternal life.

It drifted for a moment, then fell swiftly into An Yi's palm.

The instant that light fully left him, Xie Xuandu's body collapsed slowly backward, as if all support had been lost.

He cast one final glance at An Yi, a soft, deeply tender smile curving at the corners of his lips, and then slowly closed his eyes.

His breathing stopped completely.

An Yi wanted to catch him, but watched as his form dissolved like sand slipping away.

Atop the sea of clouds, the wind howled, yet could not scatter the suffocating stillness that hung in the air.

An Yi stood there, utterly still.

He cradled the ring in his hand, a storm surging through the lake of his heart, yet forcibly suppressed beneath a calm surface.

After a long moment, he slowly crouched down.

He reached out, his fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly, and brushed across the white jade ring with the lightest touch.

The ring was warm to the touch—not the coolness of jade, but a... familiar warmth.

It lay quietly in his palm, its spiritual light glowing softly within, as if it were merely asleep.

An Yi lowered his head, gazing at the ring in his palm—within it, all of Xie Xuandu was condensed.

Ten thousand years of time flashed before his eyes in a blur.

The infuriatingly bold gaze at their first meeting. The entanglement in the ruined temple. The confession at the capital's night market. The countless moments shared over a thousand years. And the warmth of him, always nibbling at his neck, clinging to him like an oversized dog...

He had always believed that he had long grown accustomed to partings, that he had come to see time as something to be let go of.

Until this moment.

Time is vast, and in the end, it changes a person.

With the deepest reverence, he raised the ring bearing Xie Xuandu's soul to his lips.

Then, lowering his head, he pressed a feather-light kiss upon the warm jade.

A single, icy-clear tear fell without warning from beneath his lowered lashes, landing on the white jade ring, tracing a slow path along its warm curve, leaving a fleeting trail of moisture.

A brief smile crossed his face, vanishing just as fast. "Seriously... am I actually crying?"

After a long moment, he tightened his fingers, closing them tightly around the ring, holding it against his chest.

The sea of clouds continued to churn, the sun had fully sunk, and the world fell into a hazy darkness.

He would keep him with him.

No matter where he went, no matter how time flowed on.