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Elder Han, no, Han Li, looked at the pile of golden gravel in front of him.

The gravel was very fine and even, trembling slightly in the cold wind of the cave, as if something alive was breathing hard.

He raised his hand that had just regained consciousness, his fingertips still trembling uncontrollably.He touched his chest. The "corpse heart" that was once as hard as iron and was condensed from resentment and corpse energy was gone.Instead, there was a bloody and still painful wound.

The wound was deep, almost running through his chest.

But, it is alive.

He could feel a weak, warm blood flowing slowly around the wound.This feeling was so unfamiliar that it made him want to cry and vomit.

He has been dead for so long that he has long forgotten what "living" feels like.

He raised his head and looked into the depths of the cave.Lin Qiu and Wang Hu were getting up from the ground and staggering over.They were relieved when they saw that Han Li was still standing there with no intention of attacking, but their eyes were still full of vigilance and fear.

After all, this person is Elder Han.He was the one who put them on death row and sentenced Chen Mo to death.

Han Li didn't look at them.His eyes were fixed on the pile of gravel.

He remembered a lot.

I remembered that in the main hall of Qingyun Sect, Chen Mo was kneeling below, his eyes stubborn, like an unbreakable stone.

He remembered that in death row, he had used all kinds of torture in order to extract the secret of Hatchet, but Chen Mo never uttered a word of begging for mercy from the beginning to the end.

Thinking of the last moment, the palm covered with metal scales penetrated his body and swallowed his soul.

At that time, he hated Chen Mo so much.

I hate him for not knowing the current affairs, I hate him for being stubborn, I hate him for dragging me into this abyss of eternal destruction.

But now...

Han Li slowly knelt down, stretched out his trembling fingers, and lightly touched the pile of gravel.

Cold, hard, without any warmth.

This is Chen Mo.

The handyman disciple who once stood in front of him and didn't even dare to raise his head.

Chen Mo, whom he regarded as an ant, could be crushed at any time.

In the end, he used this method to pull him back from the eternal darkness.

A suppressed sob sounded from Han Li's throat, like the wail of a beast.

He suddenly grabbed a handful of gravel and held it tightly in his hand, so hard that his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his palms, bleeding.

"You..." His voice was hoarse and broken, "You idiot..."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Do you know that I'm not worth saving?"

"Do you know that the best relief is for me to die?"

He roared and roared at the pile of gravel.The sound echoed and collided in the empty cave, and finally dissipated into the dead darkness.

The gravel lay quietly in his palm.

No answer.

Lin Qiu walked up to Han Li, looked at his trembling back, looked at the golden sand in his hand, and shed tears again.

She didn't speak, just silently picked up a flower from the ground.

That was the small white flower that fell from the forehead of the golden corpse on the ruins.It actually followed them all the way here. The petals were already a little wilted, but they were still blooming tenaciously.

Lin Qiu gently placed the little flower next to the pile of gravel.

Han Li looked at the flower and his body shook violently.

He remembered that a long time ago, when he was not Elder Han, when he was still a young outer monk, he had given such a wild flower to a junior sister he liked.

At that time, the sky was blue, the flowers were fragrant, and people's hearts were simple.

He turned around suddenly, no longer looking at the pile of gravel or the flower.

He stood up and turned his back to Lin Qiu and Wang Hu. His dry, blue-black back was straight.

"Let's go."

One word, cold, stiff, without any emotion.

Lin Qiu and Wang Hu were stunned for a moment.

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