Immortality: Starting with a grave, I'm invincible when burying corpses.

"Then it's your fault, sir. You didn't plan the route in advance. Since we knew that it was a rebel zone, we should have taken a detour beforehand."

Xiaohe was clearly not that perceptive; she immediately believed Mu'an's words and even casually complained.

Mu Ling'er, who was drinking water, spat it out and coughed for a long time.

Mu An patted her twice from behind to help her catch her breath, and then readily agreed to Xiao He's words.

"Indeed, I should have taken a detour a long time ago; it's my fault."

That night, after Xiao He and Xiao Lü went to rest, Mu Ling'er tiptoed up to Mu An and tugged at his clothes.

"How so? How many have you killed?"

"I haven't counted, but it must be at least over 100,000."

"So many!?!" Mu Ling'er's smile vanished, replaced by obvious surprise and worry.

"The world has been in turmoil these past few years, and there are more bandits on the roads."

After staring at Mu An's face for a while, Mu Ling'er sighed.

"Alright, just be careful, don't get into the habit of actually killing people."

"I know what I'm doing. Ling'er, you should go and rest too."

Mu Ling'er took a few steps into the carriage, then suddenly popped out again and sat down next to Mu An.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sleepy now. I'll stay with Da'an, look at the stars, and chat for a while."

Mu An paused for a moment, lowered his gaze, looked at Mu Ling'er who had her head resting on his lap, and then laughed.

"Alright."

In the winter of the third year of Ningtai, the four of them finally arrived at the foot of Tianshan Mountain.

The four of them each held a hot sweet potato, gazing at the majestic snow-capped mountains.

"Slurp! Hot hot hot!!!" It was Xiaohe. She seemed a little anxious, so much so that she burned her hand and let the sweet potato fall into the snow.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'll blow on it for you."

Mu Ling'er found a damp towel from somewhere, wiped Xiao He's hands a couple of times, and then gently blew on them for a while.

He blew on it while muttering softly.

"I've told you not to rush, I've said it so many times, but you just won't listen."

Despite complaining, Mu Ling'er's movements became even gentler. She even broke her sweet potato in half and, after it cooled slightly, fed it to Xiao He.

"It's alright, I'll feed you."

Beside him, Mu An took a sip of wine and quietly watched this scene.

Xiao Lü chuckled softly beside him and suddenly blurted out a sentence.

"Young Master, do you remember? Ling'er was like this when she was little. It wasn't easy for her to eat hot pot back then. She loved tripe the most, and she always had to imitate us by putting her hands above the pot. She would get burned every time, and we would have to blow on it for a long time each time."

P.S.: (See Chapter 131)

Mu An glanced at the two of them, then turned to look at Xiao Lü, who had a smile on her face.

Xiao Lü's face was full of smiles, but there was a deep sadness hidden in her eyes.

He put away the wine jug and casually handed the peeled sweet potato to Little Green Mouth.

"Of course I remember. She used to cry a lot, and it would take a long time to comfort her every time."

"Come on, open your mouth, don't be shy, we'll feed you one each, everyone gets one."

……

In the spring of the fourth year of Ningtai.

Sunset over the desert, rainbow over the Gobi Desert, black and white dumplings along mountain roads, towering snow-capped mountains, cascading glaciers, and churning seas of clouds...

Together, the four of them spent a year witnessing the wonders of the world.

As the sun set, on an ordinary little hill, Xiao He suddenly grabbed Mu Ling'er's hand, placed it on her lap, and held it tightly.

"Grandma, I love you so much, really. Ling'er, you are my favorite child... Forgive me for being so bad with words; all I've ever done is scold you..."

Xiaohe's tone was incredibly urgent, as if if she didn't speak up now, she would never have the chance to say it again.

These words instantly brought tears to Mu Ling'er's eyes, and she buried her face in Xiao He's arms.

Amidst soft sobs, Mu Ling'er's hoarse voice gently rang out.

"I know, I've always known, Ling'er likes you the most, Grandma He..."

The sobbing gradually grew louder, and soon turned into loud crying.

"Don't cry, sweetie..."

Looking at Mu Ling'er, who had buried her head in Xiao He's arms, and hearing the sound of crying beside her, Mu An's heart also clenched.

Standing next to him, Xiao Lü covered her mouth with her hand, trying her best to hold back her tears.

The old hand stroked Mu Ling'er's head again and again, from her hair to her cheek.

He wiped away her tears one moment and rubbed her much thinner face the next.

"It's okay, it's okay, Ling'er has grown up now, don't cry, don't cry... Ling'er is the best..."

The repeated, direct expressions of love made Mu An turn his back; at that moment, he suddenly didn't want to look.

These clumsy words were Xiaohe's greatest effort.

The crying never stopped.

Until one moment, Mu Ling'er suddenly rushed to Mu An's side like a madwoman, grabbing his hand and shaking it wildly.

"Quick! Let's go home now! As fast as we can! Grandma He loves lying in the yard; she'll be fine once she's in the chair... Please..."

Mu An remained silent, but frantically channeled the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, anchored himself in the place he knew best, tore open space, and instantly traversed tens of thousands of miles.

He watched as Mu Ling'er, her eyes red and swollen, lifted Xiao He onto the rattan chair; he watched Mu Ling'er angrily berate the flustered maids; he watched Xiao He on the rattan chair try to wipe away the tears on Mu Ling'er's face...

Everything was in a daze.

Until the sun completely set and night swept across the land.

The crying in the courtyard suddenly erupted and became uncontrollable.

March 29th, the fourth year of Ningtai.

Lin He passed away at home at the age of 106.