After the blade penetrated, Lao Dao Bazi's last thread of life force faded away.
"Poof!"
With a muffled sound, Lv Mingkun pulled out the knife, wiped the blood clean with a handkerchief, and said to Zhou Xuan: "Years of grudges—settled."
"Was it satisfying?"
"Not really," Lv Mingkun said with a bitter smile. "I've been thinking about revenge every day and night, but today I realized—I can barely remember what my third uncle looked like. It's all a blur. I used to recall he had a mole by his ear, but now I'm not even sure.
Sigh, revenge is necessary, but if my third uncle could have remained alive, living beside me—that would've been the best ending."
"Indeed, staying alive is the best outcome. The lives of these dogs can't bring back your uncle."
Zhou Xuan shared Lv Mingkun's sentiment. Just like with the Suffering Scholar—no matter how gruesome the curator's death was, Lin Xia and those Liao Ghosts could never return.
