Leaving Mount Hua, Clara Heart flew nonstop toward South Heaven Gate, maintaining a heavy silence all the way.
Nathan Young followed at a distance, his brows tightly furrowed, always keeping three zhang between them.
Days passed like this, front and back, and he truly couldn’t fathom what had happened right under his nose—why Clara seemed like a completely different person.
Fortunately, they were finally about to return to South Heaven Gate. If he could just get through this, whatever happened next would no longer be his concern.
He prayed nothing else would go wrong on the road.
Nathan Young stayed completely alert along the way, vigilant for any change in their surroundings. Only when South Heaven Gate appeared in the distance did he finally relax a little.
Back at South Heaven Gate, Clara went straight to see General Lee, bluntly telling him she’d found what she wanted. She’d do what he asked—but only by her own rules.
Before General Lee could make sense of it, Clara had already turned and left. Only Nathan and General Lee remained, exchanging bewildered glances.
Leaving South Heaven Gate behind, Clara ascended straight to the Thirty-Three Heavens and returned to Tusita Palace.
The Daoist boys stationed outside Tusita Palace immediately gathered around Clara when she arrived. Leading them, Violet Robe cupped his hands and said, "Junior Sister Clara, Master is inside the palace."
Clara stood quietly, head bowed, staring at the empty ground, her expression vacant and dazed.
The Daoist boys exchanged uneasy glances.
"Master said… if you have any questions, you can go find him."
Clara pursed her lips, looked up at the Daoist boys, took a deep breath, and forced a smile. "No."
Her smile was bright, but utterly different from before—gone was her old arrogance; it was more like she wore a mask.
"No?"
"No," Clara shook her head. "I'm just a bit tired… I don't want to see him right now."
Without waiting for Violet Robe to reply, Clara strode past him, heading toward her small house in Tusita Palace.
Watching Clara’s retreating figure, Violet Robe’s brows furrowed slightly.
"What’s wrong with her? What happened?"
"Did she run into some trouble?"
"Probably not. If she’d suffered somewhere, she’d be making a fuss about going back for revenge—just like last time."
Violet Robe thought for a moment and said, "Enough. Don’t gossip."
The other Daoist boys immediately shut their mouths and said no more.
...
A gentle breeze stirred the branches, sunlight filtering through the leaves and leaving dappled patterns on the shaded path.
Clara walked with her head lowered, holding her breath and pressing her lips together, her steps gradually quickening.
Any senior or junior brother who happened to meet her barely had time to greet her before she brushed past.
In the blink of an eye, she reached her small house beside Lord Lao’s loft, entered without a word, and shut the door behind her.
...
Not far away, in the loft, Lord Lao’s brows were deeply furrowed as he gazed at the ceiling, lost in thought.
Beside him, Birdie knelt quietly, brewing tea.
The tea in the cup before Lord Lao cooled and was replaced, replaced and cooled again, over and over, until at last Lord Lao closed his eyes and sighed, "Enough, I won’t drink anymore. Stop fussing."
"It’s no trouble, as long as Master doesn’t mind me wasting tea leaves." After a pause, Birdie added, "If I don’t brew tea, my hands feel restless."
Taking a deep breath, Lord Lao gently patted her hand. "You’ve been through a lot."
Birdie lowered her head, silent.
...
Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, casting crisscrossed shadows in the room.
Clara, like a little girl, leaned against the door, covering her face.
The memories of three lifetimes, tangled emotions, all at once overwhelmed her reason—tears burst from her eyes...