There was something wrong with my past life

"Tick!"

Tears dripped on the stone slabs in the empty stone hall, and the hollow echo was clearly audible.

Ning Ye closed her eyes, unable to bear to look at the sad mural on the wall that seemed to have some soul-touching magic power. She stretched out her hand to wipe away the tears on her face.

He also knew why he was crying, and he was still so unbearable that he burst into tears on the spot, just like a young child with extremely poor psychological endurance.

But in fact, during this period of time, as his cultivation skyrocketed upwards like a rocket, his emotions of joy, anger, sorrow, and joy that normal humans should have gradually seemed to be frozen and solidified, and they were developing. If you go down, you will probably reach the state of a sage who neither takes joy in things nor feels sorrow in yourself. To put it mildly, the whole heart gradually weathers and turns into a stone, and there will no longer be any disturbance in the mood towards anything that happens in the outside world. ups and downs.

Logically speaking, one would not be touched by the ancient past events carved on the wall in front of him, nor would he be so rude as to burst into tears at just one glance.

But that heart-wrenching feeling is so real.

This feeling is like... the girl in the mural who sacrificed her life to forge a sword is like her own daughter Xiao Lian, an important person in her life who cannot be separated from her and whom she regards as life.

"Who...are you? Have I ever known you thousands of years ago?"

Ning Ye, who had calmed down a little, opened her eyes again, stared at the girl who died with a sword in the mural, and murmured in her sleep.

Now, he is no longer the ignorant person he was before, who foolishly mistook his daughter Xiao Lian, who recognized her father on the street, for someone else's child who was lost. He is not the former high school student who stayed on campus and went to class every day, thinking only of getting into a good university, finding a good job with a high salary after graduation, and then living an ordinary and happy life with the person he likes...

Sadness and responsibility, either one, can make a boy grow up quickly, let alone both.

What's more, Ning Ye also clearly knows that she is different from all sentient beings in this world, because in essence, she is not a person, but a fruit that hides many secrets and various entanglements in past lives.

Since I, a thousand years ago, was able to meet Long Liuxi, who was just an ignorant girl at that time, and got involved in this love debt that has been entangled for a thousand years.

So, in ancient times, did I also witness the great history of the rise of the human race? If so, what role did I play in it? Was I eaten as a fruit, or played a role in it? What kind of indispensable and important role does he have, and most importantly, what kind of past does he have with the girl who died with the sword in the mural?

All kinds of messy thoughts came one after another, filling Ning Ye's mind.

He had thought about the possibility, about his involvement with the ancient saint who had glorified the human race for eternity, but because he felt it was too bizarre, this thought only passed away in a flash.

It is true that with the cultivation of that ancient saint, who could even kill the sky, how could he be as miserable as himself? If it were not for the protection of the two big men, Long Liuxi and the sword master, he would not have been able to survive. Who swallowed it and ate it and digested it.

In Ning Ye's understanding, the ancient saint was an omnipotent being. He created a method suitable for human cultivation, and led the human race, which existed as livestock food at that time, to rise step by step. , how overwhelming that is!

However, although the other party succeeded in having everything in the end, he paid the price with the death of his closest sister. This should be his biggest regret in life.

Ning Ye couldn't help but have such a picture appear in her mind——

A young man in black clothes sat high on the supreme throne. Countless human sages surrendered and knelt on the ground, shouting fanatically about their king.

Amidst the loud noise, the young man sitting on the throne ignored him. There was no trace of joy on his stern face, and his eyes never fell on the people at his feet. He did not see any living beings, but always lowered his head slightly. , looking at the world's first sword that was forged with everything he had by his side, his eyes were as deep as water, filled with untouchable sadness.

That kind of isolation and loneliness that remains with the world even though it is surrounded by the noisiest place in the world.

…

Ning Ye, who had calmed down slightly, finally moved her eyes away from the mural with the girl on it and looked at the next, seventh mural.

Ning Ye was still full of curiosity about the ancient saint, a legendary being who single-handedly changed the times. After all, there were very few records about this saint in the existing classics. Even the young master of the Nangong family The third brother and Long Liuxi, who was a true dragon in China, and others knew very little about this saint. That period of history seemed to have been broken out of thin air, and there was a large blank period.

Unexpectedly, in the most strictly forbidden area of ​​the Dongfang Family, detailed mural records about the past events of the saints appeared, which is enough to prove that the Dongfang Family has a lot of secret information about ancient times. This is really unusual.

Could it be... to hide something?

However, that saint led the human race to the present light, and he is undoubtedly the greatest contributor. Even if he has received incense for eternity, it is not an exaggeration. What can be hidden about the past of the saint?

Shouldn't it be published so that more monks can remember this history?

Ning Ye couldn't figure out the reason and looked along the mural.

"The saint held high the sword in his hand, forged with the life of his dearest relative as the soul, and walked away to the sky!" This is the content of the seventh mural. What should be recorded is the saint's feat of cutting the sky.

And the eighth mural was already after Zhan Tian——

"The saint returned from slashing the sky, and all the people surrendered and knelt down to worship him. However, the sword that slashed the sky seemed to have suffered a huge injury and completely broke into two pieces."

This mural is enough to show the brutality of the battle to cut the sky. Once the sword is broken, the ancient saint who is the master will naturally not be relaxed.

"Above the Supreme Throne, all living beings knelt on the ground, cheering enthusiastically for their king on the throne. But the young man on the throne never raised his head, looking sadly at the sword in his hand. Although it had been joined long ago, this sky-cutting sword The aura of the sword is no longer there and it is completely useless.

Surrounding the murals, it shows that a huge human royal city is being built."

This is the content of the ninth mural. As a bystander, Ning Ye couldn't help but feel a little distracted when she saw this scene that she had imagined before.

Although he was separated from the mural, he could still clearly feel the loneliness and loneliness in the heart of the saint who ascended the throne as the king in the mural.

This feeling is like possessing unparalleled power, but losing the person you originally wanted to protect.

So even if you have everything in the world, you still won't feel happy.

Ning Ye's eyes moved slightly and looked at the tenth mural, which was also the last one in the hall and the most magnificent one——

"Time seems to have passed for a long, long, long time... Various human cities have sprung up all over the land, and on the high platform of the first human city built, where the saint is located, there is an extremely bloody and miserable scene.

The ancient saint's body was pierced by dozens of sharp swords, and he was nailed to the ground. The blood flowing out was like a beautiful red lotus blooming, covering the entire high platform.

In mid-air, there were nearly a hundred human beings floating in the sky, looking at everything they were doing below with proud smiles on their faces. It seemed that they did not expect that this saint who had been regarded as a king since ancient times had only a false name and low cultivation. To be completely vulnerable.

The sky-cutting sword that had long lost any aura and could be broken even by a touch that was worse than ordinary iron was held tightly in the hands of the dead saint, and the sword was completely soaked in blood. Just like back then, the saint held this sword and slashed the sky for the human race and returned, ushering in peace for all eternity!

In the hand of one of the human beings, he was holding a freshly cut head that was still bleeding. That... was the head of an ancient saint.

On the saint's head, the eyes that had been splashed with blood had not been closed until his death, or rather... they were closed because of his willingness to do so.

In the eyes that remained open until death, there was no anger at being betrayed by the human race, nor was there the kind of doubts that remained unanswered until death. Instead, there was a calmness like a mirror lake, without a trace of ripples, as if it were death. Peace, even though as a saint, he had long been killed by the human race that he single-handedly led out of the dark age...

This is the highest platform in the royal city. It is so high that one can reach out to reach for the moon and pick the stars. On weekdays, everyone admires and worships it.

At this moment, the head was held high as a trophy, and the eyes that had not been closed until death, as calm as death, were looking at the countless cities of prosperous humans below, looking at the nearly 100 people who had created their own cultivation skills. The human race, which had become so powerful because of the law, looked at the sky and cut off the way of heaven at the expense of the life of its closest sister...

He looked at all this calmly, as if...

Saw all sentient beings! "

The saint is dead?

Or he died under the sword of the human race he guided, and died in the hands of the technique he created for the human race.

"Master! You have sacrificed so much, even the little princess gave her life, but in exchange for such shameless betrayal from the human race! Let Bai Xuan accompany you, master, and destroy this dirty world together!"

Such a voice came from behind, and his tone was full of deep-seated hatred and coldness.