Chapter 484: Reunion

One hundred years…

Ye Wuque's mind and spirit trembled slightly, and a hard‑to‑describe, tangled emotion quietly rose to his heart.

Time flows like a long river, never ceasing; for mortals, a hundred years is a lifetime, yet for cultivators who tread the path of cultivation and often seclude themselves for decades, it feels merely a not‑short station on a long journey.

Memories, like tidewater, silently soak the heart.

From the Murong Family emerged a green‑horn youth bearing the ten‑year name of Jiemie, the passionate fervor of the Hundred City War, the brotherly bond forged with Feng Caichen, the rise of the Heavenly Sacred Dao, the magnificence of the Beidou Dao Grand Sect, the parting with Kong and Senior Chu, and the unforgettable love with Yu Jiao Xue… After leaving the Forbidden Starry Sky, campaigning across Liuhe Bahuang, stepping onto the Nine Heavens Ten Lands, and now, in this Border Wasteland Blood Fire, forging the name of War God.

Scene after scene, picture after picture, so vivid as if yesterday, yet weighty enough to bear a hundred years of wind, frost, and glory.

From the once‑useless Ye Wuque who could be casually defeated by Murong Hai, to the present, raising his hand to slay the Nine Immortals as the Bianhuang War God, this hundred years is a century of rebirth and fire‑forged transformation, as well as a century of grand waves and hot‑blooded torrents.

Fu Bo stood nearby, his deep eyes full of emotion and kindness; he stroked his beard, his voice gentle: "Ordinary cultivators, how many have wasted a hundred years? It may be just a single long seclusion. Yet Young Master's hundred years are filled with killing intent at every step, opportunities at every step, ascensions at every step! At the age of a hundred, he has already set a world‑shocking record of cutting Immortals as easily as mowing grass. Such an achievement, looking across the long river of history, is surely dazzling and unique…"

Ye Zhengrong's face bore a gentle smile, then his gaze shifted toward the side hall of the Great Hall, and he said to Ye Wuque, "Quesh, look who's arrived?"

Before the words finished, the space there rippled gently, not violently, like spring water barely ruffled.

Immediately, a figure dressed in a plain martial skirt, bearing an elegant and graceful aura, suddenly materialized.

It was a middle‑aged beautiful woman; time seemed to have left few marks on her face, instead distilling a more moving charm and resilience.

At this moment, her Qiushui‑like eyes were brimming with uncontainable excitement, ecstatic joy, and a trace of long‑buried guilt and heartache.

"Quesh! My son!"

The woman's voice trembled with a choking sob; her figure flashed like a streak of light, and in an instant she rushed to Ye Wuque's side, unhesitatingly extending both arms to tightly, tightly embrace the son who stood a head taller than herself!

It seemed she would use all her strength to make up for the lost long years and the regret of not having protected him.

Warm tears instantly soaked the lapel of Ye Wuque's shoulder garment.

"Mother…"

Ye Wuque's body first tensed slightly, then completely relaxed; the scent of his mother's long‑missed warmth lingered at his nose, his heart a swirl of emotions, finally turning into a low, affectionate call.

He gently pulled his mother back into his arms, his strength tender yet firm.

Jiang Shuhang… Ye Wuque's birth mother, hearing this, wept rain‑like; she let go of her arms yet could not fully release, both hands gripping Ye Wuque's arm tightly, lifting her face, her gaze greedily scanning his face, brows, and figure inch by inch, as if to engrave all his years of change into her heart.

Her face intertwined immense excitement and joy at seeing her son safe and so outstanding, together with deep self‑blame.

"It's Mother's fault… Mother failed to protect you, letting you endure so much suffering, shed so much blood…" Jiang Shuhang's voice choked, full of endless heartache.

"Mother, you truly need not blame yourself." Ye Wuque gently clasped his mother's hand, a warm, reassuring smile on his face, "Everything has already passed. Had it not been for these trials, today's Ye Wuque would not exist. To see Mother healthy, Father robust, our family reunited—that is the son's greatest fulfillment."

Jiang Shuhang heard this, her emotions eased slightly, yet she still clutched Ye Wuque's hand, urgently saying, "These years… how have you been? Tell Mother… it's all Mother's fault; during this time I was locked in a Closed Death Gate in an ancient forbidden land of the family, trying to break through the shackles of my technique, almost cut off from the world. Only recently did I emerge, learning that you had already entered the Nine Heavens Ten Lands and made a famed name in the Border Wasteland, prompting me to rush here regardless of everything… I've caused you hardship, my child…"

Ye Wuque felt a warmth in his heart, patiently selecting some less bloody, less brutal, more peaceful episodes from his years, and recounted them gently.

From the wanderings after leaving the Forbidden Starry Sky, to the various encounters after stepping onto the Nine Heavens Ten Lands, and then the Border Wasteland campaigns…

The time ahead belongs to this little family, long overdue, in warmth.

Ye Zhengrong ordered a simple family feast; though modest, the dishes were exquisite and full of home's flavor.

The three of them sat around, the lantern light flickering, joy radiating.

Ye Wuque spoke, his parents listened, sometimes gasping, sometimes laughing, sometimes frowning with concern.

"Good! Well killed! Those wolf‑hearted, dog‑hearted beings, their deaths were hardly a loss! Yet… Quesh, you were surely in grave danger back then…"