"Nothing to laugh about here," Yi Feng said with a smile.
He raised his wine cup toward Qin Nan before downing it in one go.
Life was good.
Even at death's door, having soone like Qin Nan by his side was more than enough.
"Though I must trouble Brother Yi to prepare my funeral sooner rather than later," Qin Nan said with a bitter chuckle. "That earlier seal drained half my strength. I reckon I’ve only got seven days left with you."
As he spoke, he tilted his head back and emptied his cup.
One cup turned into three in quick succession.
The strong liquor flushed Qin Nan’s cheeks, his frail fra trembling slightly. Unbidden tears welled in his reddened eyes.
"Don’t laugh, Brother Yi, but… I’m terrified of death."
He poured himself another drink, as if trying to drown his fear in alcohol, his voice thick with emotion. "I truly admire you—how fearless you are, how calm and composed in the face of death."
"I… I can’t be like you. Because I don’t want to die. Not at all."
Qin Nan clenched his fists, his pale face twisted with resentnt.
He was the young master of the Qin family.
The top genius among the younger generation in the Heavenly Domain.
A future Saint in the making.
His potential was limitless. To die like this—miserably, pointlessly—how could he accept it?
"Ah…"
Yi Feng sighed softly, unsure what to say. He could only pat Qin Nan’s shoulder in silent comfort.
Perhaps Qin Nan’s shifting deanor seed contradictory to others.
But to Yi Feng, it only made him more real.
This was what it ant to be human.
Alive.
In the face of death, what difference did it make whether one was mortal or cultivator?
Night deepened, yet the two kept drinking.
Another day passed…
The massive ship held only them.
A sea breeze swept by, making the crimson flag atop the mast flutter wildly—as if recounting tales of its past glory, how it once braved storms and ruled the Heavenly Domain.
Wine bottles clattered to the deck, shattering unnoticed as the two remained slumped over the table, lost in conversation.
Qin Nan recounted his life’s story to Yi Feng.
His youthful naivety and awkwardness.
The thrilling adventures of his wandering days.
How a few reckless friends led him astray, leaving him with a few beloved wives now waiting on so distant island.
Yi Feng listened without interruption.
Though he had lived two lives, he couldn’t fully grasp Qin Nan’s emotions.
Even if he, too, was nearing his end, his death wasn’t truly permanent.
So he chose to be a silent witness.
Ti slipped by unnoticed…
The perpetually gloomy sky suddenly broke, casting a sliver of sunset glow across the table, painting everything in warm hues.
Yi Feng refilled his cup and drained it.
Fine wine, fine tales… yet twilight lood.
Eventually, Qin Nan’s energy waned. He slid under the table, hugging a leg tightly as light snores escaped him.
Yi Feng left him be. Staggering to his feet with the wine pot, he took a swig with every unsteady step toward the bow.
By the ti he reached the edge, the pot was empty. He shook it once, then tossed it into the sea, where it vanished with a tiny splash.
Hands behind his back, he gazed into the distance.
The dying light stretched his shadow long across the deck…
A strange sensation prickled at him.
Sothing far away seed to be waiting.
Odd.
Very odd.
After the emotional highs and lows, with nothing left unsaid, Qin Nan seed to have found peace.
He no longer counted the days.
Instead, he embraced these final monts—carefree, savoring every second.
The two lounged on deck chairs, fishing rods in hand.
A tug on the line made Yi Feng reel in swiftly.
A foot-long, unnad fish, its scales shimring green, flopped onto the deck with a wet smack.
"Go on. Cook," Yi Feng said, smirking.
"Ugh, again? Can’t I win just once?" Qin Nan groaned in protest.
"No backing out. Whoever doesn’t catch anything cooks," Yi Feng pointed at him. "Your turn."
"Co on, I’ve cooked every al so far!" Qin Nan scowled. "When do I get to taste your cooking?"
"Then catch sothing," Yi Feng retorted.
"Fine! New rule—whoever hooks the first fish is off kitchen duty," Qin Nan declared, shalessly rewriting the rules.
"Alright, one last chance."
Qin Nan perked up like an excited puppy, eyes laser-focused on the float.
Finally, it bobbed.
"Hah! Victory is mine this ti, Brother Yi!"
He yanked the rod up eagerly—
Only for the red-scaled fish to slip free just above the water.
"Wha—?!"
Qin Nan deflated like a punctured balloon, slumping back into his chair.
"Can’t bla now. You had your shot," Yi Feng said lazily, effortlessly reeling in another half-foot catch.
Qin Nan stared, dumbfounded.
"Well? Get moving," Yi Feng barked.
"…Fine."
Muttering under his breath, Qin Nan grabbed both fish and slunk toward the kitchen.
Days blurred together.
They fished, played chess, drank, talked nonsense, or passed out drunk on the deck.
Ti lost aning. Day or night made no difference.
Freed from the pressures of rivalry and family, Qin Nan embraced his newfound liberty—often sprinting naked across the ship, much to Yi Feng’s disgust.
"How many days has it been?" Yi Feng asked.
"Dunno. Three? Four?" Qin Nan waved a hand dismissively, engrossed in fishing. "Who cares?"
"But shouldn’t I be feeling death’s approach by now?"
"You’ve got ages left. Worry after I’m gone," Qin Nan said, plucking at his leg hair as the fish ignored his bait.
"Right."
More days slipped by.
Lazing on his chair while petting a snail, Yi Feng turned to Qin Nan. "So? How many days now? Shouldn’t you be dead?"
Qin Nan, struggling with a chess puzzle Yi Feng had set, paused. "Huh. Didn’t keep track. Maybe a day or two left?"
"You’re hopeless. Can’t even count days?" Yi Feng scowled.
"Like you did any better!" Qin Nan shot back indignantly.
"Just figure it out. How long’s it been?"
"Ugh, what’s the point? Seven days is seven days. When it’s ti, I’ll die," Qin Nan grumbled.
Seeing Yi Feng's insistence, Qin Nan had no choice but to say, "Alright, let check the seal consumption of the Four Directions Array Box. That should tell us how many days have passed."
As he spoke, Qin Nan flipped his palm, and the faintly glowing Four Directions Array Box appeared in his hand.
"Ah!"
The next mont, Qin Nan let out a sharp cry.
"What's wrong with you?" Yi Feng was startled and scolded, "What are you screaming for, you scared the hell out of !"
"Y-Y-Y-Yi Feng, th-th-this isn't right," Qin Nan stamred, his body trembling with disbelief. "It's been sixteen days!"
"What the—?!"
Yi Feng nearly toppled off his reclining chair. He jumped to his feet, staring at Qin Nan in stunned silence.
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