The old man’s expression was sowhat distorted; as he approached his final monts, it seed like he regained so clarity, uttering strange and bizarre nonsense there.
"Ah, I don’t even know what it is now..."
"It might not be entirely bad, just that people beco corrupted."
"I had forgotten what my mother looked like, but now I rember. She died young from illness, ah, I rember burying her with my own hands."
"What my father looked like..."
The neighbor convulsed a few tis, like a shrimp that was exhausted and struggling after being lifted out of water.
As a person nears death, their words beco kinder; as a bird nears death, its cries beco sadder. Wang Hao stood by, listening attentively, ready to cover his ears at any mont.
The old man began to recount his rushed life, regardless of who his listener was, even if it were just a young child, he blurted out everything without restraint.
He had long forgotten what his parents’ nas were.
Did he have any children? In his prolonged life, children seed unimportant; he had no children.
He had no relatives left.
Most of his ti was spent in a muddled state, completely unaware of the purpose of his actions.
Was living ant just for longevity?
Or maybe life itself was the aning.
When life was about to end, what should one think about, what should one do? If there were only a few minutes left, should one repent, regret, or make other choices...
This sudden question left him perplexed.
This was sothing humans naturally pondered, only that he, as an Eternal, had never considered it before.
He tried to recall so pleasant mories, but he seed to have forgotten all the good things; he even forgot his own na.
This filled the old man with a faint sadness, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes.
He inexplicably began to confess the evil deeds he had committed.
"How should I leave this place?"
A child’s voice ca to his ears, calm, soothing, yet vibrant.
"What is this place, can you tell ?"
The elderly neighbor gathered all his strength trying to catch a glimpse of where the voice was coming from but soon, darkness encroached on his vision from all directions.
He could no longer see.
He felt powerless as the roots of the Blood Ginseng grew out of his facial orifices, using all his strength to say, "I don’t know... I’ve been muddling through on the outside, staying here actually gives a bit of clarity! Why that is, I don’t know..."
He seed to recall sothing: "There’s a compass in the house... you can try heading east..."
"Over there... fewer ’Strange Objects.’"
East! A precious clue!
Why should he help?
The old man didn’t know himself, he just did it without a reason.
It didn’t matter anymore...
The child asked again, "Why am I here? What is grandma’s purpose?"
The old man strained to say: "Child... not having experienced aging, is special..."
"It’s not very smart right now... It’s still growing..."
Wang Hao felt he had heard a great secret, his pupils slightly contracted.
"In the well on the north side of the village... you can steal so of its power... just a bit of it..."
"I can’t tell you too much, kid... otherwise, you’ll lose your life."
As the old man said this, his body kept convulsing, seeming to be at his dying mont: "...go east... to where the sun rises... it might be slightly better there."
"Perhaps you might succeed... but it won’t let you go..."
"Mother... mother!"
Wang Hao wanted to ask more, but he noticed the old man’s breath growing fainter, his speech becoming slurred, frothing at the mouth as he began to repeatedly call for "mother," "mother."
An entity, unknown whether human or creature, cried out for its mother who had died hundreds of years ago. The scene was incredibly real yet heart-wrenching.
Even the worst n, at the mont of death, call out for their mothers.
The clearest monts in a person’s life are only when nursing, and just before death. The lengthy years in-between are clouded by the external world, appearing knowledgeable on the surface but in fact always confused, unaware of what they truly desire.
Wang Hao lowered his head, sighed slightly, glanced at the letter left by Black-clothed Guard Li Xianfeng and then back at the old man.
"One last question, how do I regain my sanity?"
The old man’s pupils dilated, murmuring, "...that herb, plus blood!"
After uttering that, his physical body lost its soul.
After the neighbor’s death, the growth rate of the Blood Ginseng significantly sped up, rapidly drawing the blood from his entire body in just a few minutes, turning him into a dried corpse.
All his vital blood enabled the ginseng to grow to 10 centiters long, as thick as a thumb, weighing probably about half a pound.
This ginseng had no offensive nature, rather it was a type of plant-based Strange Object.
If word got out, it would surely cause much bloodshed in the world.
"An object that can prolong life, an object that grants immortality..."
"Don’t say too much, I don’t like this."
Wang Hao initially intended to make so clever remarks to ease his ntal pressure, but now, he didn’t know what to say anymore.
The subject of life and death was too heavy, not suitable for joking.
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