255: I'm back

Lin Fan slowly turned around.

His calm gaze swept across the mess of the square and landed on the two figures he would risk his life to protect.

A deathly silence hung over the square.

Warm sunlight spilled onto the broken bluestone slabs and onto every Qingyun Sect Disciple who had survived the disaster.

But they couldn't feel the slightest bit of warmth.

Everyone was like a frozen statue, stiff in place, subconsciously holding their breath.

They just stared blankly at the figure in green robes in the center of the square with eyes full of awe, fear, and a mix of fanaticism.

That wasn't their Senior Brother Lin.

That was... a god.

A deity walking among Mortals, erasing powerful enemies with a wave of his hand and shattering a demon god with a single finger!

In front of this deity, they were as small as dust; even breathing loudly felt like a form of sacrilege.

Zhao Linger and Fatty Zhang stood at the center of this deathly silence.

They were closest to that figure.

They also saw him the most clearly.

Fatty Zhang's stout body was trembling violently and uncontrollably.

His mouth was wide open, and a 'he-he' sound came from his throat, but he couldn't utter a single word.

That incredibly familiar face he thought of day and night was right before his eyes.

But those eyes... there wasn't a hint of joy in those eyes, nor the slightest excitement of a reunion.

There was only a calm that was as deep as an abyss and as indifferent as the sky.

It was as if everything in the world—life, death, honor, and disgrace—held no difference in his eyes.

From his appearance, this person was indeed Brother Lin, but he wasn't the Brother Lin he knew!

An invisible, indescribable sense of distance, like a natural chasm, lay between them.

It wasn't a physical distance, but a gap in the level of their existence.

A Mortal, and a deity.

Tears still hung on Zhao Linger's long eyelashes as she stared blankly at Lin Fan, her mind a complete void.

The terrifying pressure that was enough to level the entire Qingyun Sect had vanished.

Those arrogant Upper Realm Cultivators had also vanished.

The crisis was resolved.

He was back.

But why... did he feel so like a stranger?

Why did that face, so close at hand, make her feel like he was further away than the clouds on the horizon?

Lin Fan looked at them.

He looked at the complex expressions on their faces—a mix of ecstasy, fear, bewilderment, and alienation.

He fell silent for a moment and sighed in his heart.

Then, the god-like, indifferent expression on his face gradually melted away like ice and snow in spring.

A familiar smile, carrying a bit of helplessness and a bit of warmth, reappeared at the corners of his mouth.

It was just like the smile he used to show back on the rear mountain whenever he returned from 'courting death' and saw their worried faces.

He lifted his foot and walked forward.

"Tap."

A soft footstep rang out in the silent square, clearly reaching everyone's ears.

It was like a signal.

The frozen world began to thaw.

He walked up to the two of them.

Looking at Fatty Zhang's twisted broken arm and his blood-stained body, he raised his hand unceremoniously and, as he had done countless times before, habitually patted his stout shoulder.

"Pat."

A soft sound.

Fatty Zhang's body jerked violently, as if he had been struck by lightning.

An indescribable warm current surged in from his shoulder; a tingling itch came from his broken arm, followed by the clearly audible 'crack-crack' of bones resetting.

The sharp pain vanished.

His arm was as good as new.

But with a 'thud,' Fatty Zhang's legs went soft, and he almost knelt right down.

A... a god patted my shoulder!

This thought made his brain almost crash.

Lin Fan looked at his pathetic state and then at Zhao Linger beside him, whose eyes were still blank but whose tears kept falling.

He let out a soft sigh.

Then, he spoke.

His voice wasn't loud; it was very plain, even carrying a hint of exhaustion, as if he had just woken up from a long, grand dream.

"I'm back."

Four simple words.

There was no ripple of magical power.

There was no blessing of laws.

Yet, like a divine thunderclap of creation, it crashed into the invisible barrier in the hearts of Zhao Linger and Fatty Zhang.

That chasm called 'deity' collapsed instantly at this moment.

Time seemed to flow backward in this instant.

The young man before them with the helpless smile and warm eyes perfectly overlapped with the youth in their memories, who was sometimes cowardly and sometimes reliable.

The deity vanished.

Standing before them was Lin Fan.

It was their Brother Lin.

"Wah—!"

Fatty Zhang couldn't hold it in any longer. His stout body lunged forward, wanting to hug Lin Fan, but he stopped halfway and just gripped Lin Fan's arm tightly, wailing loudly.

He cried like a three-hundred-pound child.

"Lin... Brother Lin!"

"Waaaah... You're finally back! Where the hell did you go!"

"They... they wanted to kill Sister-in-law! They wanted to kill us all! My hand was broken... waaaah..."

All the grievances, all the fear, and all the despair turned into incoherent wails at this moment.

Zhao Linger's body finally couldn't hold up anymore, and she slumped backward.

But she didn't fall.

A warm palm supported her back just in time, gently drawing her into a solid and warm embrace.

A familiar scent that made her feel incredibly at ease lingered at the tip of her nose.

Zhao Linger could no longer hold back; she buried her face in Lin Fan's chest, and the tears she had suppressed for so long finally burst through the dam.

It was him.

It really was him!

He was back!

At the moment of everyone's greatest despair and helplessness, he had returned!

Lin Fan didn't speak; he just quietly held the trembling body in his arms, while his other hand somewhat clumsily patted Fatty Zhang's broad back.

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the Qingyun Sect Disciples on the square who were first dumbfounded and then showed looks of wild joy.

"You've worked hard."

His voice returned to calmness.

"Leave the rest to me."

After doing all this, he slowly lowered his head to look at Zhao Linger, who was still sobbing softly in his arms, his eyes filled with inseparable tenderness and apology.

His gaze passed through the messy square, over the mountains of Qingyun, and looked toward the boundless, deep sky.

The Spirit Realm.

Netherworld Palace.

This debt is only just beginning to be settled.