257: In the blink of an eye, things and people have changed

Inside the Main Hall of the Qingyun Sect's Main Peak.

Lin Fan waved his hand, setting up an invisible Barrier that isolated all external prying and sound.

The pressure that had just been like that of a Creator God vanished without a trace. He reverted to the Azure-robed Youth, sitting casually on the main seat, looking at Zhao Linger and Fatty Zhang, who were still somewhat reserved below.

"Tell me about it."

Lin Fan's voice was calm, "How long... have I been gone?"

This question was like a key, opening the floodgates of memory.

Fatty Zhang was the first who couldn't hold back. His face, covered in excited fat, trembled as he plopped down on the steps beside Lin Fan and began speaking animatedly, spitting everywhere.

"Brother Lin! You wouldn't believe it! Ever since that day you... you disappeared, the entire Qingyun Sect has treated you like an Immortal!"

"The Sect Master personally erected a statue for you, right on the Back Mountain, and it's bigger than his own! Disciples go to offer incense every day!"

"Also, those messy Cultivation Techniques you left behind back then were compiled and became the Qingyun Sect's Treasure of the Sect! Several Senior Brothers managed to Breakthrough to Golden Core relying on them!"

Fatty Zhang spoke with great excitement, as if those were his own glorious deeds.

He vividly described how, over the past hundred years, the Qingyun Sect transformed from a minor third-rate faction, relying solely on the name "Lin Fan," growing step by step into a top-tier Sect that no one dared provoke within ten thousand square miles.

Countless Cultivators came to pay homage, wishing to behold the statue of "Sword God Lin Fan."

Countless legends were fabricated, saying that Lin Fan was an Immortal God from the Upper Realm who descended to experience the Mortal world, and having achieved Karma Perfection, had now returned to the Immortal Ranks.

Lin Fan listened quietly, without interrupting.

From Fatty Zhang's rambling narrative, he pieced together a rough timeline.

One hundred and twenty-seven years.

A long time, long enough for a Mortal to witness the change of Dynasties and the transformation of the world.

To him, it felt only like waking up from a long dream.

"Oh right!" Fatty Zhang slapped his thigh, as if remembering something important, and an expression of schadenfreude appeared on his face. "Brother Lin, do you remember that arrogant guy from back then, what was his name... Xiao Chen?"

Xiao Chen.

That name caused Lin Fan's thoughts to pause slightly.

Of course, he remembered. That guy who thought he was the Son of Destiny, who repeatedly sought trouble with him and contributed many "Death Rewards."

"What happened to him?" Lin Fan asked casually.

"Hehe!" Fatty Zhang grinned widely. "That kid was quite the figure back then! High talent, strong background, surrounded by followers wherever he went! After you disappeared, he even came to our Qingyun Sect a few times looking for trouble, but he was blocked by the Sect Master and Elders at the time."

"What happened later?"

"Later?" Fatty Zhang curled his lip, his tone full of disdain. "There was no 'later' for him!"

"About... seventy or eighty years ago? I can't quite remember. I heard he was fighting with another Sect's Genius over a useless herb, got severely injured, and had his Dao Foundation destroyed."

"Even later, I heard he was stabbed to death by a sword during a small-scale Sect conflict. His body was fed to Yao Beasts, and no one even collected his corpse."

Fatty Zhang spoke lightly, as if talking about an irrelevant extra.

"Dead?"

Lin Fan was genuinely stunned for a moment.

In his expectation, a "Son of Destiny" like Xiao Chen, even if not dealt with by him personally, should have grown into a Major Figure, becoming a powerful opponent he would have to face upon his return to This World.

But he just... died?

Died in an obscure minor conflict.

Died so... insignificantly.

An indescribable sense of absurdity surged in his heart.

His number one enemy, whom he had noted down and planned to "repay" properly someday, was silently washed away by the long river of time before he even returned.

Not even a ripple was stirred.

Silence fell within the Main Hall for a moment.

Zhao Linger looked at the somewhat complex expression on Lin Fan's face, thinking he was lamenting, and softly spoke up to add:

"It wasn't just him."

Her voice was very soft, carrying a hint of melancholy.

"The Disciples of our generation, Senior Brother Wang, Senior Sister Li, and many others who entered the Sect together... all Passed Away in Meditation fifty years ago when their Lifespan ran out."

"The Old Sect Master also failed to charge the Nascent Soul thirty years ago and Perished, his Dao Disappearing."

"Even that Big Yellow Dog on your Back Mountain died of old age a few years ago. Fatty buried it under the tree where you often sat."

Zhao Linger's voice was like invisible needles, gently yet clearly piercing Lin Fan's heart.

Those vivid faces in his memory—those Fellow Disciples who were either respectful, jealous, or friendly—were now just cold gravestones.

The Qingyun Sect he had desperately guarded was no longer the Qingyun Sect he knew.

The people and events here had been washed away and utterly transformed by over a hundred years of time.

He was like a phantom crossing space and time, returning to his old home.

Yet he found that apart from the two people he cared about most, everything else was unfamiliar.

A strong sense of detachment, like a tide, engulfed him.

This place... was no longer his home.

"Brother Lin?"

Fatty Zhang keenly noticed the change in atmosphere. He looked cautiously at Lin Fan, no longer daring to joke around.

Zhao Linger also looked at him worriedly. She could feel the warm aura around Lin Fan gradually becoming distant and indifferent.

Lin Fan did not respond.

He slowly closed his eyes.

He could feel the Repulsive Force of This World and heaven growing stronger against him.

Like a precisely operating instrument unable to accommodate an overly powerful component that is outside its specifications.

The Laws were expelling him.

The world was rejecting him.

Every minute, every second he remained here was a heavy burden on this fragile world.

He had to leave.

And quickly.

Lin Fan slowly opened his eyes. All the melancholy and detachment faded from his deep gaze, leaving only clarity and determination.

He looked at Zhao Linger and Fatty Zhang before him.

Looking at the worried, concerned expressions on their faces.

He could no longer let them stay here.

Staying here meant that one day, they too would turn into a pile of yellow earth, just like the Old Sect Master and those Fellow Disciples, becoming only a name in his memory.

He could not accept that.

"Linger, Fatty."

Lin Fan spoke, his voice calm, yet carrying an undeniable resolve.

"Get ready."

"We're going home."

The moment he uttered those words, an even stronger sense of repulsion rushed in from all directions, as if the Will of the World was urging him on.

Lin Fan frowned slightly.

It seemed there was barely time left even to say a few words.

He stood up, his gaze piercing through the Main Hall's dome toward the land outside the Mountain Gate, the area he had personally repaired and imbued with Immortal Dao Charm.

Before leaving, he had to leave one last gift for this place he once called home.