The cries came to an abrupt halt, and everyone looked up dumbly at Long Xuanmo.

Gently laying Yang Mengchen back on the bed, Long Xuanmo picked up her icy hands and pressed them against his cheeks, gazing at her with eyes gentle as water, his voice husky but enchantingly captivating, "Ah Jiu, sleep well. Once you wake up, I'll apologize to you, and you must forgive me. I promise I'll never make you angry again. Whatever you say or do, I shall comply and support you, alright?"

"Momo…"

Prince Ning wanted to say something, but Long Jingxi pulled him back and shook her head slightly. Ah Mo was now in the depths of great sorrow, like a knife eager to draw blood. Even the slightest touch would cause injury, and all present would not be spared.

Mo Yun and the others were both saddened and worried. The Prince deeply loved Ms. Yang to the bone. Now that Ms. Yang was gone, nobody knew what the Prince might become.

"Amitabha!" Accompanied by the Buddhist chant, Master Jingkong slowly walked in, followed by a white-haired, benevolent-looking elder Taoist with a red mole shaped like a rice grain on his right earlobe.

When Yang Mengchen met with disaster, Master Jingkong did not come, but stayed at Martyr Temple to recite scriptures and pray for her.

Old Hai quickly approached and asked, "Wu Wei, why have you come?"

On the other hand, Weichi Kong and Old Master Shao's eyebrows twitched slightly, their sharp eyes flashing a momentary dark fierceness.

The rest of the people looked at Old Man Wuwei with confusion, while Mo Yun and the others were overjoyed.

Old Man Wuwei nodded.

Submerged in sorrow, Long Xuanmo seemed to suddenly regain his senses and rushed over. Kneeling on the ground, he pleaded, "Master, please save Ah Jiu!" He said, bowing his head repeatedly.

Looking at his deeply beloved disciple, Old Man Wuwei sighed inwardly, walked to the bedside, took out a pill, and forced Yang Mengchen to swallow it. Then, turning to the others, he said, "Rest assured, she will be fine. Please leave now and allow no one to disturb us."

Immediately, everyone exited the room, fearful of delaying Old Man Wuwei's treatment of Yang Mengchen. Each person felt a glimmer of hope rising in their hearts.

Seeing that his disciple had not moved, Old Man Wuwei said, "Momo, you should leave as well."

Long Xuanmo naturally did not want to leave, but upon seeing his master's deep sea-like eyes, he could only go. Taking one last deep look at Yang Mengchen, he then turned and left the room, closing the door behind him and standing guard outside.

Turning back to look at Yang Mengchen, Old Man Wuwei's eyes were filled with affection and intense tenderness.

Yang Mengchen, previously left to be consumed by the darkness, heard a voice like the faint toll of a Buddhist bell, "Silly child…" Along with it, a beam of light pierced through the darkness, growing larger and brighter.

Master! It was her master! Only her master would call her a silly child! Instantly, Yang Mengchen's eyes brightened, her heart brimming with boundless joy, and she used all her strength to break through the shroud of darkness, racing towards the light.

Though she had been with her master for just over two years, he was the person she respected and cherished most. It was he who guided her toward the path of light, earnestly teaching her various talents. Without her master, there would be no her—the legendary female CEO.

Opening her eyes, she saw only a strange old man, resembling the Elder of the Antarctic Immortal, not a stranger, for the original owner of the body had seen this old man before, yet there was no sign of her master. Yang Mengchen's eyes instantly dimmed.

Could it be that she had just experienced an auditory hallucination?

Perceiving Yang Mengchen's thoughts, Old Man Wuwei chuckled and said, "Silly child, can't you recognize your master just because he changed his appearance?"

"Master?" With eyes wide in astonishment, Yang Mengchen stared blankly at the benevolent old man. "You, you really are my master?"

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