Chapter 393: Hundred Years of Time

"Take care! Stay safe, come back to play next time, okay!"

Enoch stood at the edge of Eden Garden, beside the invisible boundary, like an enthusiastic old neighbor seeing off a friend, waving his hand to Yu Lin as a farewell.

"Alright, goodbye."

Yu Lin replied with a sound, did not turn around, and simply waved his hand casually.

Following the Tigris Riverbank he had come from, he set out again, his figure quickly merging into the eternal warm light and abundant scenery, until he vanished.

Enoch remained where he was, looked for a while longer, then slowly turned.

His gaze fell upon the clearing that now contained only a smooth tree stump.

The pure white and pure black cross‑section, under Eden Garden's soft light, still appeared strikingly eye‑catching.

The old man ran his hand over his snow‑white long beard, his eyes deep, murmuring softly:

"Incredible, incredible…"

He shook his head, as if trying to temporarily dispel this overly shocking scene from his mind, or perhaps because he realized the profound meaning within was far beyond his current comprehension.

Without lingering in thought, Enoch walked slowly to the fruit tree where he had previously painted, and took from his bosom a book that looked extremely ancient, its cover neither leather nor wood.

He sat on the ground, spread the strange book on his knees, and also took out a brush that seemed able to dip in light and shadow.

After a moment of contemplation, he wrote on the blank page with a stroke that was exceedingly solemn yet without any superfluous embellishment:

【A sacred presence comes from elsewhere.........】

When the rhythm of the changing seasons returned to perception with renewed clarity, and when the first leaf not belonging to Eden Garden's eternal spring, bearing a withered yellow edge, fluttered from a branch and spiraled onto Yu Lin's shoulder.

He knew he had left that timeless paradise and returned to the flowing mortal world.

Only Yu Lin, clutching the fallen leaf, felt an inexplicable sensation rise within him.

The Tigris River's murmur continued, but the scenery on both banks had quietly changed, bearing the Human World's distinctive imprint of time.

Retracing the path of memory, when he climbed again the hillside where he had once partied with Lamai, his gaze turned to the distance, and he couldn't help but furrow his brow slightly.

"Hm? What happened?"

At the far end of his sight, the city that had once been orderly and full of peaceful vitality was gone.

In its place lay a desolate ruin, eroded by years of wind and sand, leaving only broken walls and crumbling foundations.

The broken walls slumped, stone foundations lay exposed, wild grass grew among them, and only a few charred beams stubbornly pointed to the sky, narrating the former devastation.

Judging by the degree of weathering and vegetation cover, at least… nearly a hundred years had passed between his departure and his return!

Yu Lin stood on the slope, silently staring at the ruin.

The wind swept the wilderness, bringing the mist from distant rivers and the scent of dust between the ruins, also a faint, almost intangible loneliness of the past.

He showed little emotion, merely speaking softly, his voice low yet seeming to carry a rule that pierced space, sending it outward:

"Gai Yin, come see me."

The voice crossed mountain ranges and rivers, ignoring distance, landing precisely in a hidden valley cave far away, reaching the ears of a bored fellow lying on a stone slab, pondering where to go next for "some fun" or "collect some offerings."

!!!

Gai Yin jolted as if pricked by a red‑hot iron needle, leapt from the stone slab, and a fine layer of cold sweat instantly spread across his forehead.

"How did he return?! It's only been…" His face mixed fear with a hint of resigned "trouble's come."

"Sss… fine, you can't hide, so let's go first."

He quickly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, dared not linger, his form flickered, turning into a streak of light that almost merged with the shadows, racing toward the source of the voice at breakneck speed—likely perceived by mortals as merely a passing gust.

Yu Lin did not wait long.

Ahead, not far away, the shadow of a sun‑shaded cliff twisted and writhed like a living thing, and Gai Yin's figure slowly emerged from it.

He habitually piled on a flattering smile, about to step forward and say some compliments, but when his gaze met Yu Lin's calm, unruffled eyes and caught the ruined city behind him, his heart gave a sudden thump, he thought of something, and his movement froze instantly.

With keen sense, his form blurred, reverting to the shape of a divine yet ominously eerie black horse, then he cautiously stepped forward, lowered the horse's head, and in a flattering tone probed:

"You… you've returned. The trip to Eden Garden… was it…"

"Enough."

Yu Lin cut off his meaningless small talk, simply raised his hand to point at the shocking ruin below the slope, his voice even yet carrying an undeniable query:

"What happened there? And my friends?"

Gai Yin inwardly sighed, "Just as I thought they'd ask that," and the horse's face forced out an extremely human‑like expression, a mix of embarrassment, difficulty, and an attempt to distance itself.

"Well… uh…" he stammered, the horse's hooves nervously pawing the ground:

"It's a long story… roughly… um, over seventy years ago, several foreign, relatively large cities heard that this place was especially fertile and peaceful… they grew malicious, united, gathered a large group, came… to seize it."

He glanced at Yu Lin's expression, saw the other still expressionless, then forced himself to continue:

"That kid named Luo Er… quite daring."

"He stayed behind to hold the line, buying the city's people time to evacuate…"

In Gai Yin's tone, a rare hint of genuine sentiment appeared: "To be honest, that kid's power surged quickly in his final days, quite impressive."

"But… they were just too many, even later… the couple he had previously spared, named Man Er and La Ling? Because of a vow they rushed back to help him… um…"

He paused, then hurriedly added, speeding up, trying to explain his "absence":

"Besides, it's not that I didn't want to help him! At that time I just… uh… had personal matters, wasn't nearby! So I truly couldn't help! Please… you have to trust me…"

"Enough," Yu Lin interrupted again, his voice revealing no joy or anger: "I don't want to hear your explanation."

He truly didn't care whether Gai Yin acted, as he never expected this fellow to protect anyone.

He asked only to confirm the facts.

Yu Lin mounted him, gently patting his neck.

"Go there."

He raised his hand, pointing toward the farther mountains and wilderness opposite the ruined city.

Gai Yin dared not ask further, instantly understood, spurred his four hooves, carrying Yu Lin like an arrow from a bow, racing toward the direction Yu Lin indicated.

The century‑old ruins and the hushed wind were cast far behind.