「The seventh day of the ninth month.」
An unremarkable day.
"Master."
Ming Nianwei arrived at Tong Li's courtyard as she always did, her eyes downcast in a show of meekness:
"How have you been feeling these past few days?"
Though a hundred times unwilling, she didn't dare skip her visit, terrified of provoking him.
COUGH, COUGH...
Tong Li covered his mouth, coughing softly.
With each passing day, his physical condition deteriorated. His face was a web of deep-set wrinkles, and his skin was covered in liver spots.
"I'm almost gone."
Taking a deep breath, Tong Li reached out and gently stroked Ming Nianwei, the wrinkles on his face crinkling into a strange smile.
"Thank goodness I have you."
"Master."
Ming Nianwei looked up, her eyes welling with tears and her voice trembling.
"You're going to be all right."
"Silly girl," Tong Li sighed. "Life and death are the way of the world. We Cultivators attempt to defy the heavens and change our fate..."
