Chapter 34: The Final Road Home — A Very Long Story

The wooden floor of the manor was covered with a soft carpet.

Firelight from the fireplace flickered gently, painting the entire room in a warm orange glow.

It stood in sharp contrast to the cold night outside the window.

The grandfather sat in his chair, quietly observing the furnishings around him.

His gaze drifted to the window, where the night lay in complete darkness.

A thin crescent moon hung high above.

Snow fell silently.

He watched for a long time.

Only then did he slowly bring his attention back to the two people in front of the table.

His eyes grew distant.

He had been here before.

A very long time ago.

Back then, he was nothing more than a filthy, starving child—running for his life.

Yet somehow, he had been brought here.

That memory—

warm, clean, almost unreal.

Like a dream.

Now, recalling it again made it hard to distinguish what had been real.

The grandfather drifted into thought.

The sharpness on his face had long faded.

Only a faint trace of nostalgia remained, nearly erased by time.

“…Grandfather.”

The voice was soft.

But trembling.

The grandfather blinked, still not fully returning to the present.

“I was still thinking… about how to come find you.”

Xia Jiuwei kept her head lowered, her voice restrained.

“When I finally found you…”

She stopped.

Something clogged her throat.

When she spoke again, her voice was already breaking.

“You ended up treating me like this…”

The last words were almost inaudible.

Tears had already fallen.

She cried silently.

They just kept falling.

One drop after another, unable to stop.

The faint sound of crying finally pulled the grandfather out of his memories.

He looked at the girl in front of him.

For a moment, he froze.

After a few seconds, he slowly reacted.

“…Summer?”

His voice came out rough, uncertain.

As if he didn’t dare confirm it.

Xia Jiuwei lifted her head.

Her eyes were red.

“Grandfather, you’re so unfair…”

Soft words. Heavier than her crying.

The grandfather paused.

His throat moved, but no words came out.

Finally, he let out a long sigh.

He reached out, slightly awkward, and pulled her closer.

His movements were careful.

As if she might break.

“…It’s my fault.”

He said quietly.

“I’m sorry, Xia.”

His voice carried clumsiness—

and genuine guilt.

The moment Xia Jiuwei was pulled into his arms—

she grabbed onto his clothes.

So tightly it looked like letting go would make him disappear.

Her tears soaked into his clothes.

She couldn’t form a complete sentence.

Only broken sobs escaped her.

Lu Nian’an stood silently to the side, watching.

Only now did she realize—

she had never truly understood what was inside Xia Jiuwei’s heart.

After some time, Xia Jiuwei gradually calmed down.

Her expression became serious again.

“Grandfather.”

She looked at him.

“What exactly… do you do?”

The grandfather fell silent for a moment.

Then he slowly spoke.

“My job…”

is to keep custody of the Under-Reality.

His tone was calm, as if it were something ordinary.

Hearing the answer she had already vaguely suspected, Xia Jiuwei didn’t interrupt.

She asked again.

“What about this book?”

A black book materialized in her hands.

“Why… did you give it to me back then?”

She raised her eyes.

“If you’re the keeper, why do I have inheritance rights?”

The grandfather looked at the book, not offering a long explanation.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“Because it was yours from the beginning.”

His tone was light.

But absolute.

Xia Jiuwei froze slightly.

The implication was too large to process immediately.

But she didn’t press further.

After a moment, she asked something else.

“Grandfather.”

“You’ve never really told me about your past.”

“What exactly… did you go through?”

This was one of the few things she had always wondered about.

The grandfather let out a soft sigh.

“My past…”

He chuckled.

“Too much.”

“Too much?”

Xia Jiuwei frowned slightly.

“How is that ‘too much’?”

The old man thought quietly.

—If it were the woman he once called “Teacher”, would she have said it?

He lifted his gaze toward the girl in front of him.

White hair. Violet eyes.

For a moment, she overlapped with a figure buried deep in his memory.

Faded. Unreachable.

He took a slow breath.

“I…”

He began.

“Have lived too long.”

“So long that even what I experienced… has become blurred.”

He paused.

His eyes settled on Xia Jiuwei.

“Are you sure… you want to hear it?”

The tone carried a weight that didn’t belong to a simple question.

Xia Jiuwei looked at him, her voice still calm.

“Grandfather… don’t say that.”

“As long as you stay in the Under-Reality, nothing will happen to you.”

Her words were soft, each one carefully chosen.

The grandfather didn’t respond.

He only lowered his gaze slowly.

Then he began speaking.

“It all started… tens of thousands of years ago.”

He paused, as if trying to grasp the shape of time itself.

“Fifty thousand… maybe a hundred thousand. I don’t remember anymore.”

Those numbers no longer meant anything to him.

“It was a very ancient era.”

“So ancient… there was no written language yet.”

Outside, the night continued flowing silently.

The crescent moon hung in the sky. Snow fell without sound.

“There was a child born at that time.”

“His people gave him a name.”

The grandfather smiled faintly.

“It meant—something that is burned by fire.”

“He grew up, and eventually learned that his life would end in a ritual—fire sacrifice.”

“But he didn’t want to die, so he ran away from his tribe.”

“And when he had nowhere left to go, he met two strangely dressed people…”

The grandfather continued speaking slowly, recounting every memory he still retained from his long life.

His stories made time feel indistinct.

Outside the window, the crescent moon waxed, then waned again.

…

“After placing the book into the Under-Reality, I also transferred my temporary authority into it.”

“To remain in a mortal body for that long… I suppose that was a kind of honor.”

“After that, I returned to the cabin. The authority of the Under-Reality gradually stripped away from me. I could feel myself approaching death.”

Yet there was no fear in his voice.

“I was always waiting for someone. And it seems… I’ve finally met them.”

As his words fell, the long passage of his life came to an end.

And yet, he could have spoken much longer.