The dazzling light in the space came from the meteorite. Towering branches of red trees extended from all directions, carefully supporting and surrounding the meteorite, as if it were a crowned king. The red tree branches connected to the meteorite seemed to be coated with gold, even more magnificent than the red, translucent branches we had seen before.

The palace was filled with a rich, mysterious atmosphere. The ground was flat and gleaming, and the walls were no longer uneven rocks but smooth surfaces with neat dividing lines.

Due to the light emitted by the meteorite, the entire space was bright and transparent, bathing the palace in light as if it were daytime. A sense of clarity, as if the clouds had parted to reveal the sun, washed over the palace.

The essence of the immortal mountain, perhaps, lay in this, inspiring longing and wonder.

The fat man's eyes were almost blinded by the intense light.

While his eyes adjusted to the strong light, the fat man seemed to hear Han Yu's voice, but he couldn't hear it clearly or understand what was being said. He even thought he was hallucinating.

Immediately afterward came the sound of fierce fighting. The fighting didn't last long, and one side was easily subdued.

The fat man wasn't sure who had been subdued, but he judged from the whimpering sounds that the person who had been subdued was seriously injured.

After a while, the fat man heard Rou Yi's voice—"Young Master! What's wrong, Young Master!"—"Zhao Chenguang!"—"Wake up!"

At this point, the fat man realized that something was wrong.

Although the light was blinding, the fat man shielded his eyes with his hand and tried to open them.

The fat man managed to open his eyes a slit and could barely see some things nearby.

It was bad.

He saw the Young Master lying on the ground, his legs twitching uncontrollably. A bloody hole had been stabbed in his neck, and blood gurgled out of it.

Rou Yi and Jennifer's eyes adapted to the strong light faster than the fat man's, and they were frantically trying to help the Young Master.

But the fat man knew that anyone who lost that much blood was beyond saving.

"He's lost too much blood. He can't be saved," the fat man said helplessly, watching the Young Master twitching on the ground in his death throes.

As he spoke, the fat man's eyes were fixed on An Wenshan, who was standing motionless, covered in blood.

An Wenshan held a dagger in his hand. The blade glinted coldly, and crimson blood dripped from the tip along the fuller.

Clearly, An Wenshan was the murderer who had stabbed the Young Master in the neck.

The fat man's eyes were filled with doubt and anger: "An Wenshan?"

An Wenshan didn't respond. His face was uncertain, and it was impossible to tell what he was feeling.

The fat man looked at the scene before him and recalled the An Wenshan he and Rou Yi had met in the desert. More than two years had passed, and the An Wenshan before him was much thinner and his skin was much darker. His eyes were smaller due to fatigue, and his thin lips were as sharp and cold as if they had been carved with a knife.

Unsure whether this person was friend or foe, the fat man dared not be careless and confronted An Wenshan.

"Fatty, the Young Master is dead," Rou Yi said, pressing her hands tightly over the bloody hole in the Young Master's neck, turning her head to look at the fat man with tears streaming down her face.

Faced with death, no one cared about the Young Master's true identity anymore.

Even though the Young Master's identity was questionable, it wasn't up to an outsider to judge him. Family matters had to be dealt with by the family.

Sadness swept over them. It wasn't just Rou Yi; even the fat man's eyes were red with grief. Even though the Young Master's identity was questionable, everyone had felt that everything was normal on their journey, and they could all feel the Young Master's sincerity.

Unexpectedly, the Young Master's words in the passage had been a prophecy, becoming his last words.

The fat man drew his hunting knife from his waist, pointed the blade at An Wenshan, and roared, "An Wenshan, you dare to attack us! Are you tired of living?"

An Wenshan stood like a wooden figure, his face expressionless, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

The fat man swallowed. Although he didn't know An Wenshan's true strength, he had realized in the desert that An Wenshan was not someone to be trifled with.

The fat man had seen An Wenshan's style in the desert and knew that An Wenshan was a ruthless and cold-blooded person. Rou Yi lay on the Young Master's body, crying her heart out, and her miserable cries deepened the fat man's indignation.

"Go to hell!"

The fat man charged toward An Wenshan with his knife, wanting to kill him in one blow to avenge the Young Master.

Moreover, the fat man was going for the kill.

"Pay for the Young Master's life!"

The fat man roared, swinging his knife at An Wenshan's head.

"Fatty! Stop!"—A woman's voice came from a corner of the space.