"Mr.... Yan, you’re here! Please, come in, come in..."

Mrs. Yu quickly stopped Yan Sea from changing his shoes and ushered him to the sofa.

Yu Zhiguo scrambled out of bed. Without bothering to change, he ran out wearing only a tank top.

"Mr. Yan... you... How is Feifei now?"

The old couple looked at him with anticipation.

Yan Sea felt a pang of shame and took out the injury diagnosis report.

Mrs. Yu quickly took it.

"Twelve fractured ribs... damage to his heart and lungs... *sob*..."

Before she could finish, Mrs. Yu was already choking on sobs, unable to read anymore. Yu Zhiguo took the report from her and carefully read it, word by word.

Yan Sea chose his words carefully, offering comfort. "Please, don’t worry. While these injuries would be severe for an ordinary person, Yu Fei is a Martial Artist. I’ve also arranged for treatment at a highly specialized hospital. I promise you both, in about two months, I will bring a perfectly healthy Yu Fei back to you."

Yan Sea promised with extreme sincerity.

Yu Zhiguo let out a long sigh.

"Alas, we’ll have to trouble you then. Can we go see our boy?"

Yan Sea thought for a moment before replying, "I will do my best to arrange that. The hospital where Yu Fei is being treated is a high-clearance, secure facility. I can’t guarantee I can get anyone in."

Mrs. Yu nudged Yu Zhiguo and said through her sobs, "Let’s not cause Mr. Yan any more trouble. I heard... are you a Grandmaster now...?"

Seeing the expectant looks on the old couple’s faces, Yan Sea understood. In a world where martial arts reigned supreme, ordinary people had a blind faith in Grandmasters. So, he changed his tone, speaking with powerful conviction.

"I... am a Grandmaster. I give you my word as a Grandmaster that Yu Fei will be fine. Please, rest assured. I have other matters to attend to, so I’ll be leaving now."

"Then we won’t keep you. Thank you, Mr. Yan."

"Thank you."

Before leaving, Yan Sea said solemnly, "You must not worry. Yu Fei is not just my student; he’s my disciple. He will be alright."

After Yan Sea left, the old couple felt a sense of peace for some reason. With the promise of a Grandmaster, though they were still heartbroken, they were no longer consumed by sorrow.

"Feifei’s injuries are so severe... I can’t imagine how much pain he must be in..."

Mrs. Yu wiped her tears as Yu Zhiguo comforted her, "Let’s hope fate is on his side. Yan Sea is a Grandmaster. He said Martial Artists are different from ordinary people. He should be fine..."

As the night deepened, Yan Sea went to Liu Ming’s memorial hall, where Zou Zhiming and Cao Le’an were holding a vigil.

Liu Ming had never married, dedicating his entire life to No. 2 High. After his death, a group of his former students took care of his funeral arrangements.

Yan Sea kowtowed heavily three times, then knelt before the memorial for the entire night.

’Life is unpredictable.’ He had yet to tell his teacher about the hardships he had faced over the years. He had planned to wait until there was a result with Yu Fei’s cultivation of the Tribulation Sword Dao Foundation—success or failure—and then he would tell him everything. But he never imagined his teacher would pass away first.

Fate is fickle. Life is full of disappointments; one can only trudge forward through pain and regret.

On September 9th, a large new section of graves appeared in the southern part of the city. All the victims of the incident were buried here.

In front of the rows of graves stood a massive stone monument. It truthfully recorded the deeds of the Illuminati cultists, listing who had participated in the battle and who had tragically fallen, all engraved in detail.

The ashes of the cultists were interred beneath the monument—a simple wish of the people, a belief that good is rewarded and evil is punished, that the wicked should not have a peaceful end.

On the day of the public memorial, at least ten thousand people attended. Because the details about the cult could not be disclosed, the ceremony was exceptionally silent. But whether they knew the truth or not, it didn’t stop the people from mourning the fallen.

That night, Yan Sea, Zou Zhiming, and Cao Le’an got completely wasted—something that was nearly impossible for a Grandmaster.

Yan Sea had looked up to Liu Ming as a father. Now he was left with the regret of a son who wishes to provide for his parents, but they are no longer there.

Zou Zhiming grabbed Yan Sea’s arm, forcing bottle after bottle of liquor on him.

"Teacher, do you see this? This kid became a Grandmaster! Damn it, back in the day he was like a half-dead dog, and now he’s actually a Grandmaster! The damn old tree finally bloomed!"

"Teacher, you can rest in peace in the underworld now, *sob sob sob*..."

Zou Zhiming was a mess, laughing one moment and crying the next. As he spoke, his words dissolved into hoarse sobs.

But then he grabbed a liquor bottle and smashed it over Yan Sea’s head.

"You’re a fucking Grandmaster! You saved the whole county, but why couldn’t you save our teacher?! Don’t you know you were the one he worried about the most? *Sob sob*..."

Zou Zhiming squatted on the ground, wailing uncontrollably. This middle-aged man cried like a child. Then, still crying, he got up and started punching and kicking Yan Sea.

"All you ever cared about was your master’s legacy and that fiancée of yours! You never told our teacher a single damn thing about your troubles! How could you be so selfish...?"

Cao Le’an came forward to restrain Zou Zhiming, but he was shrugged off. When his attempts to talk him down failed, Cao Le’an angrily smashed a bottle over Zou Zhiming’s head.

In the end, an ordinary person’s head isn’t as hard as a Grandmaster’s. His head was split open instantly.

The owner of the establishment, seeing the three old guys were getting wild and fearing someone would get seriously hurt, secretly called the police.

The blow seemed to sober Zou Zhiming up a bit, and he stopped attacking Yan Sea. He just choked out, "I know it’s not your fault... but I’m just so angry that such a good person like our teacher met such a violent end. Speaking of which, we have that kid Yu Fei to thank. He risked his life to avenge him."

Cao Le’an tore his own clothes into strips to bandage Zou Zhiming’s head. But in his drunken state, he just wrapped the cloth around and around Zou Zhiming’s head, completely missing the wound.

His hands kept moving as he recalled Yu Fei’s heroic display in the auditorium that day. "Yu Fei really is a good kid," he couldn’t help but say. "Too good, maybe. I wonder how he’s doing now..."

With that, he plopped onto the ground and passed out.

Yan Sea didn’t say a word, his eyes glazed over as he drank bottle after bottle. He went through more than ten cases of baijiu and was still demanding more from the owner. His aura was so fierce that the owner didn’t dare refuse and could only secretly call the police again, this time telling them to bring an ambulance.

’He actually had plenty of excuses to counter Zou Zhiming’s complaints.’

’He had been healing. If he had come out of seclusion before he recovered, he wouldn’t have been much use—he would have been even weaker than Zhang Yuanqiao.’

’His long-range senses were weak. Even if he had been fully healed, he wouldn’t have known what was happening at No. 2 High; he could only sense the fluctuations from the main battlefield.’

But he didn’t explain a single thing. He just kept drinking.

When Jia Jingxian arrived on the scene, a headache immediately set in. He’d been swamped with work the past two days and had gotten off late. He’d come to see who would dare cause trouble on the day of the public memorial, only to find these three characters.

’What a mess.’ All he could do was clean it up.

Yan Sea left the next day. After becoming a Grandmaster, his responsibilities had only increased. It seemed he didn’t have a moment’s rest. With great power came great responsibility.

Han Qiubai and a man named Taolang buried Taowei on a hill next to the public cemetery. It was covered in countless white rock jasmines. Taolang carved two words into the tombstone with his bare hands.

[Taowei’s Tomb]

The man in black, with twin blades of black and red at his waist, bent down and gently kissed the tombstone before turning and walking away without a backward glance.

This place had become a home for someone’s heart, a tether that would be felt no matter the distance.

Days passed, and normalcy, in its mundane way, began to return. The students of Class 2-6 and the Martial Arts Intensive Class had been especially quiet lately. In fact, a sorrowful air still lingered throughout all of No. 2 High. The hero who saved them all was gravely injured with no known return date, and new teachers had appeared in every class—constant reminders of the tragedy that had occurred.

Li Mengyao often found herself staring blankly at the empty desk beside her.

’Yu Fei, where are you?’

"I just found out. So you were all down there. I never expected this outcome. That old dog Dust Sacrifice was wiped from existence, too. How... delightful."

Cheng YuanYu had hidden in his safe house for a month. Only when he had exhausted all his supplies did he cautiously venture out. He happened to overhear the location of the cemetery, and after learning the full story, he came over.

He gazed at the massive stone monument, beneath which lay the ashes of his former colleagues. A jet-black cigarette suddenly appeared in his hand—it was his last Black Emperor. Back then, Cheng YuanYu had risked provoking Di Yunliang in order to get himself legitimately injured. It was the only way he could feign weakness in the ensuing battle and slip away; otherwise, with his level of strength, escape would have been nearly impossible.

Cheng YuanYu slowly lit the Black Emperor, took a long, satisfying drag, and exhaled with a look of pure bliss.

"Mr. Liang, farewell forever. Wish me luck!"