"Let's go," Wu Zhangkong said, gaze fixed on the twilight horizon.
A rare flicker of melancholy surfaced in his ever-frosty eyes.
Since arriving in Tian Dou City, Fang Yang had sensed something different about Teacher Wu.
After leaving Yu Hao Grilled Fish, Wu Zhangkong walked faster—intimately navigating Tian Dou's streets, weaving between bustling markets and silent lanes.
The crowd thinned.
The noise faded.
They turned onto a narrow path, barely wide enough for two soul-guided cars.
To one side—a tall stone wall, lush greenery spilling over its crest.
To the other—dense woods.
Here, Wu Zhangkong's breath quickened, his steps grew urgent.
The icy mask melted away, replaced by unfathomable emotion—
grief, yearning, sorrow—revealing not the untouchable "Azure Blade of Ice," but a mourning man lost in memory.
After 500 meters, a grand gate appeared in the wall:
TIANDOU PUBLIC CEMETERY.
Inside, ancient trees stood in solemn rows, graves resting in quiet dignity.
Few visitors wandered the paths—only occasional mourners paying respects.
Wu Zhangkong moved like a ghost, leading them to the innermost grave.
He stopped before a tall tombstone, carved with four solemn characters:
"TOMB OF LONG BING."
"Fang Yang, Gu Yue—wait here a moment," he said softly—his voice no longer ice, but velvet.
From his sleeve, he drew a white cloth—and began gently polishing the stone.
His touch was reverent, tender, as if caressing a lover's face.
The grave bore only dust—yet under his hands, it gleamed like polished jade.
His eyes warmed, his earlier sorrow soothed.
A faint, unseen smile touched his lips—lost in cherished memories.
For an hour, he cleaned in silent devotion, the world reduced to just him and this cold stone.
When finished, he stood before the name—his smile blooming like spring dawn, warming the very air.
"You loved white… so I wear white."
"You said you wished to see me smile… so my smile exists only for you."
"Bing'er… are you at peace… in that world?"
His fingers traced the characters "Long Bing", eyes dry, yet shining with love.
Then—Fang Yang and Gu Yue stepped forward, placing two bundles of white chrysanthemums at the tomb's base.
Wu Zhangkong stared—surprise softening his features.
"Teacher Wu… is this our… teacher's wife?" Fang Yang asked gently.
"Mm…" Wu Zhangkong's voice was drenched in tenderness, his eyes never leaving her name.
"Teacher Wu…" Fang Yang's voice dropped, heavy with revelation, "Have you ever considered… ascending to godhood to resurrect Teacher's Wife?"
Silence shattered.
Wu Zhangkong jerked as if struck, disbelief flooding his eyes.
Gu Yue gasped beside him.
"Ascend… to godhood?" he whispered, the words alien yet aching.
"Yes," Fang Yang said firmly. "Ascend."
Wu Zhangkong's gaze turned distant. "The path to the God Realm was severed twenty thousand years ago. Divine inheritances vanished. How…?"
Fang Yang thought bitterly: "Precisely because Tang San isn't here—now is our chance!"
"After Tang San's generation claimed godhood, only Huo Yuhao inherited the God of Emotions' seat. Since then? None… unless you become the Tang family's loyal dog!"
Aloud, he declared: "Simple—forge a new godhood."
"Forge… godhood?" Wu Zhangkong echoed, staring at Fang Yang with haunted awe.
"Even Yun Ming—the Sea God Pavilion Master, the continent's strongest—failed. How can we—?"
"Yun Ming's failure doesn't doom us all," Fang Yang cut in, eyes blazing with ambition.
"Even if we fail… at least we tried."
Wu Zhangkong fell silent.
His gaze returned to "Long Bing"—and a long-dormant ember of hope flickered back to life.
In that moment, he grasped the scale of Fang Yang's ambition.
"Ascend…" Wu Zhangkong finally stood, voice resolute. "Let's go."
By the time they left the cemetery, dusk had fallen.
Wu Zhangkong's icy demeanor snapped back into place, ushering them into Tian Dou City's luminous streets.
Lanterns glowed, crowds surged, shops buzzed with trade.
He seemed restored to normal—yet Fang Yang and Gu Yue knew now:
His heart wasn't cold. It simply reserved its warmth for one soul alone.
"What would you like for dinner?" Wu Zhangkong asked, voice frosty once more.
"Whatever you choose, Teacher Wu," Fang Yang replied, hand in Gu Yue's.
Wu Zhangkong considered. "Noodles. There's a shop… exceptional noodles."
Not ordinary noodles—but the legendary kind from songs and legend!
Springy strands, rich broth, handcrafted meatballs, fresh greens—simple, yet unforgettable.
Fang Yang and Gu Yue devoured bowl after bowl.
Wu Zhangkong ate just one—savoring each strand slowly, deliberately.
"Plans for your break?" he asked Fang Yang.
"I've taken Gu Yue home. Next… I'll visit her family," Fang Yang explained.
Wu Zhangkong's tone turned stern. "Don't slack off. Next term—I'll inspect your training progress."
"Yes, Teacher Wu," Fang Yang vowed earnestly.
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