Chapter 1343: The Void of Despair

Even someone as formidable as Qi Xia found himself utterly powerless in this space.

He could see no glimmer of light in any direction; he didn’t even know which way he was facing.

He stretched out his hand but couldn’t see his own fingers. He shouted, but no echo returned.

An unprecedented sense of loneliness and despair began to well up simultaneously in both Qi Xia and the observing Tianlong.

With no idea how long he would drift in this eerie void, the only thing Qi Xia could do was cling to his sanity.

After realizing that no matter which way he moved, there was only darkness, he started replaying his tragic life in his mind over and over to stay conscious.

But no matter how many times he revisited it, his past was nothing but despair and failure.

Tianlong gradually became infected by the despair in Qi Xia’s heart, yet he could only experience it from Qi Xia’s perspective—utterly unable to intervene.

In this pitch-black nothingness, Qi Xia hadn’t gone mad yet, but Tianlong felt himself slipping into insanity.

It was a madness born of complete emptiness.

For everyone else, time might still be passing second by second—but for Qi Xia in this space…

The only thing flowing was his thoughts.

Aside from his active mind, everything else seemed frozen.

The endless darkness and the unfathomable path ahead were enough to break even the strongest of wills.

Whether it was Qi Xia or Tianlong.

“Hey…” Tianlong was losing patience. “White Sheep, what the hell is going on? How long are you going to make me watch this?”

To his surprise, no response came from the void.

“White Sheep…?” Tianlong called again, but the space remained deathly silent.

A bad feeling crept over Tianlong. If “eternity” meant enduring this forever, he would lose his mind long before Qi Xia did.

But what was this “dream” all about?

Had he died without realizing it?

The thought sent his thoughts into disarray. He could no longer distinguish between dreams and reality.

Which part of his experience was real…?

He desperately tried to sever the “dream invasion,” only to realize that his “faith” was as insignificant as an ant before the vastness of this world.

This world possessed a “faith” as boundless as the universe itself, locking him in place with no hope of escape.

“White Sheep… are you toying with me? How am I supposed to uncover the path to becoming a ‘god’ in this place of nothingness?”

But no matter how much Tianlong cursed, not a single sound answered him.

In the infinite void, the only thing reaching him was Qi Xia’s fragmented thoughts, making him feel as though he had lived an entire lifetime himself.

After replaying his own life countless times, Qi Xia began recalling his experiences in the “Land of Finality.”

To keep himself from going mad, he forced his mind to stay active—but as the endless nothingness stretched on, his eyes dulled, and his expression grew numb.

Using finite thoughts to break through infinite stillness…?

Qi Xia knew that to stay sane, he had to find something to do.

Days passed. Even Tianlong, the observer, found his consciousness scattering.

That damned White Sheep still ignored him, leaving him to drift through “eternity” alongside the dream’s owner.

He regretted entering this story through “dream invasion.”

This time was unlike any before—he was like a wisp of a ghost standing beside the dreamer, experiencing every moment in real time, with no ability to fast-forward.

Just as Tianlong was lost in thought, Qi Xia suddenly widened his eyes as if struck by realization.

A glimmer of light returned to his gaze, and his expression shifted.

He had extracted a detail from his memories of the “Land of Finality.”

He recalled something Tianlong had once said—

“The ‘train’ is ready.”

The “train” had three stops, but aside from “Peach Blossom Spring,” the other two were pure nothingness.

From that moment, his thoughts exploded into rapid-fire succession, countless ideas flashing through his mind—and directly into Tianlong’s.

Tianlong was stunned. Nothing had changed, yet the speed of Qi Xia’s thoughts was now beyond his comprehension.

Before he could grasp one idea, the next had already appeared.

“Wait…” Tianlong’s shock deepened. “Is this… the ‘next stop’?”

Floating beside Qi Xia, he gazed into the endless void. Was this the “new world” he had longed for?

After the “train” was destroyed, Qi Xia—the sole survivor—had fallen into this “new world”?

“Pure nothingness…” Qi Xia muttered. “Yes… pure nothingness… I see… I understand…”

With so many thoughts rushing through him, even Tianlong couldn’t discern Qi Xia’s intentions now.

Qi Xia reached out as if trying to grasp something, but his hand closed around empty air.

“Not enough ‘faith’…” Qi Xia murmured. “Here, nothing works… I need more time…”

Tianlong never expected Qi Xia to utter “need more time” so casually.

Because from that moment on, Qi Xia emptied his mind entirely, surrendering control of his sanity, drifting aimlessly through the void.

Time flowed. With no reference points, even Tianlong lost track of how long had passed.

Months, perhaps. Maybe even years.

Qi Xia never spoke again. The voice of “White Sheep” never returned. Only Tianlong remained, screaming alone into the abyss.

His physical body wasn’t trapped in this “eternity,” leaving his mind painfully clear. He couldn’t even rest or sleep—he endured every single second in excruciating awareness.

This was a slow torture beyond anything he had ever imagined.

Only now did he truly grasp how insignificant a “god” was before the weight of eternity.

A mere year or two was enough to reduce someone who called himself a “god” to desperate, maddened cries.

Then, at some unmarked moment, Qi Xia moved again—just like before.

His hand jerked up, fingers twitching as if performing some unseen act.

Tianlong nearly sobbed in relief. After an eternity of waiting, Qi Xia was finally acting.

Had Qi Xia not moved, Tianlong might have mistaken him for a corpse.

But seconds later, Qi Xia’s fingers stilled. Nothing happened.

With a sigh, Qi Xia lowered his hand, bowed his head, and fell silent once more.

“No…” Tianlong whispered in despair. “No… What are you trying to do? Try again!”

But no matter how he shouted, Qi Xia remained motionless, eyes half-lidded, staring blankly ahead as if dead.

The crushing despair and darkness swallowed Tianlong again. This was the worst possible outcome.

Had Qi Xia never moved at all, Tianlong might have endured the endless dark. But that single, fleeting motion—

When would he move again? What was he trying to achieve?

And so, in this maddening wait, Qi Xia would suddenly raise his hand every year or two, twitch his fingers, then lower it again.

At first, Tianlong watched with desperate hope. But as the pattern repeated, he realized—he’d been tricked once more.