At that moment, they clearly realized one thing: in this world, Old Man Chen had to be there.
Regardless of the old guy's actual physical condition, and whether he could no longer do anything, the mere fact that he was there, that he was still there, was exceedingly precious and vital.
Only then would Qingzi, as humanity's most dependable peak combatant at present, never feel lost, alone, and helpless in any moment of supreme despair. Only then would they, facing any dire predicament, never truly fall into utter despair.
As long as Chen Buer remained in the mortal realm, as long as there was still a strike of the Red-Slaying Saber left undelivered, humanity had not completely lost this war of destiny.
Over the past thirty-odd years, during the eras when he stood invincible in the world and fought without cease, this conviction had imperceptibly engraved itself into the consciousness of nearly every elder and high-ranking leader in Azure.
And so, whenever something befell humanity—something immense, difficult, or perilous, like the very heavens about to collapse—the person they thought of first, the person their eyes turned toward, would always be him.
Even today, that had not changed; it was still him.
Only this time, when they hoped and prayed just as they had in the past, Xu Xiaohong had been forced to tell them all that the man had truly grown old after all. "The oil is exhausted and the lamp gone dry" was a very Huaxian phrase, and Xu Xiaohong had done his best to translate and explain it to them.
Just like these veterans, nearly all the powerful newcomers who had stepped to the very forefront of humanity's resistance in this new era had been profoundly influenced by the old man and his historical mythos.
The billions of ordinary humans living on Blue Star, who had only begun to learn the full truth and history of the resistance when the open war era began, might believe—spurred by the continuous victories and glory of recent years—that geniuses and newcomers capable of replacing him had truly emerged in humanity.
Yet in reality, every single newcomer who had truly stepped into the pinnacle ranks of humanity's source-weapon world would never labor under such an illusion.
Having learned and understood more, they were only left all the more awestruck by his appearance and his very existence.
And for the exact same reason, they rejoiced that he existed.
"Looking back now, being a genius rookie really was the happiest time," Han Qingyu suddenly spoke up. With a rare tone of nostalgia and deep emotion, followed by a long sigh, he brought life back to the cabin, which was soon followed by smiles.
"Those days when we could hide behind the old man... they were truly wonderful."
Amid the bantering, Han Qingyu clasped his hands behind his head and added, half-serious and half-joking.
Everyone felt that he was right.
But what good was that?
When the sky-crushing boulder finally crashed down and the youngsters could no longer hold it up, were they to look once more toward the old man who had always propped up the dome of the heavens?
Yet he was already drawing his last breaths.
***
In the northern reaches of Huaxia, at a non-Azure military base. Beneath the slope of a gentle hill amidst vast grasslands, inside a house resembling an ordinary herdsman's home.
Chen Buer sat cross-legged on a square wooden table, a smooth wooden wall behind his back.
"Feels like something's missing," said Xu Xiaohong, looking weary after having recently returned from Azure Headquarters. Gazing up at the wall behind Chen Buer, he remarked, "I ought to write a rhyming couplet and paste it up: *Smoked by incense, scorched by fire, invincible in the mortal realm.* Otherwise, it just lacks formality."
Of Chen Buer's entire body, only his eyes moved, glaring fixedly at him.
Xu Xiaohong acted as though he hadn't seen a thing, lighting the incense sticks in his hand and solemnly placing them into the burner.
Wisps of incense smoke curled upward.
Incense smoke curled upward from millions of households in Huaxia.
Incense smoke curled upward from tens of millions of households across the entire world.
Yet there was no need to worry; it would not choke Chen Buer with smoke.
For there was one detail in what Han Qingyu and the others believed that was mistaken: Old Man Chen was not on his last breath—he was no longer breathing at all.
He had ceased breathing for quite some time now.
Because only by doing this could he keep himself "alive."
The world all knew the importance of breathing, knowing it nourished the body and vitality, but none realized that it was also a slow, steady deprivation of life.
"Hey, going by that logic, Azure isn't actually protecting you anymore, you know! After all, the slogan goes, 'For all that breathes...' But you don't breathe anymore."
As if having stumbled upon some profound revelation, Xu Xiaohong chuckled to himself. He then strolled over to a chair not far from the table, sat down, and began sipping tea at an unhurried pace.
One sip, two sips. Swallowing the tea, Xu Xiaohong looked up at him again. "Yet you still want to protect them, don't you?"
"One last time?"
At that moment, the Chief of Staff's eyes uncontrollably reddened just a fraction.
Because he was long unaccustomed to such sentimentality, he made a great effort to hide it.
Chen the old warrior himself, however, showed no sadness or sentimentality whatsoever. Unable to move his body or his mouth, he simply kept his eyes fixed in an unrelenting glare at his old partner.
"I know what you want to ask," Xu Xiaohong said after a brief pause. "Yes, the situation isn't developing well. At the very least, that Puda'er is confirmed to be leading a fleet toward the Moon."
Chen Buer's eyes flicked up and down, seemingly signaling that he understood, before he resumed staring at Xu Xiaohong.
"Are you asking about those boys, Han Qingyu and Wen Jifei? Yes, they still have to go. By now, they've probably set off. The intel from below says Qingzi's Yanxiu hasn't recovered, but time won't wait for him."
Xu Xiaohong lowered his head and took another sip of tea.
Looking up once more, he found Chen Buer still holding the same posture, staring straight at him.
He pondered for a moment, then raised his voice. "Holy crap, you're not so shameless that you're asking why none of them came to see you during their trip back and forth, are you?"
Chen Buer's eyes flicked up and down, indicating, *Yeah, exactly that.* The man truly was that shameless.
Xu Xiaohong burst into loud laughter, which trailed off after a while.
"They won't come. They're unwilling to come, and they don't dare to come. Unwilling, because they fear that if they do, you'll struggle to your feet and try to go with them. They don't dare, because they fear seeing that no matter how hard you struggle, you really can't get back up anymore. Deep down, they're still afraid."
The phrasing was convoluted; Chen Buer might not have understood every word.
Not that it mattered; as long as Xu Xiaohong understood it himself, that was enough. After all, was he himself not gripped by the very same fear? The only difference was that he had no choice but to come back—and he knew there could only be one outcome.
No longer looking into Chen Buer's eyes or caring whether he had more to ask, Xu Xiaohong sat alone for a while after speaking. Then, struck by some sudden thought, he stood up and walked out.
Before long, he returned carrying a long wooden pole.
Walking up to Chen Buer's incense table, he gripped the bottom of the wooden pole with both hands and began jabbing upward.
He quickly punctured right through the roof.
*Rustle, rustle...* Dried grass and dust showered down across the room, raining all over Chen Buer's head and shoulders.
Coughing, Xu Xiaohong haphazardly brushed some of it off him, then covered his nose and mouth and ran outside.
Only when the dust had settled did he reappear at the doorway.
Leaning against the doorframe, he looked at Chen Buer, and then looked above the old man's head—at that dazzling expanse of starry sky.
Chapter 971