The sound of raindrops that crashed into the soil was as memorable as ever, legend told that the rain itself was the performance of Heaven, there were two variants of this story. First, it signified the death of those beloveds by Heaven, or, it signified the glory after the long-lasting struggle.

His blood and sweat were washed away by the warm water of the sky, the aftermath of his journey had already presented itself. He overcame his nemesis with the price of weakening himself, he felt feeble yet carefree.

"Today is the day I return home, wait for me, sister." Tear manifested itself on his face, he kneeled down, not knowing why, and let it all out. He left his home to pursue his dream, he set foot into every ruin to find the cure for his handicapped sister. That was his only promise to his late father.

Now, after he had defeated the nemesis who killed his parent, he was about to return to his origin. Why would he suddenly cry?!

When all the tear no longer came out, when his emotion was washed stainless. He looked back at his aftermath for one last time, buried his nemesis and walked away into the distance, toward his home, toward his destination.

Along with his life, along with his journey, he witnessed many regrets, witnessed many deaths, he heeded many catastrophes, heeded many destructions. Yet, he also observed the process of birth, observed the process of fulfilment, he received fortunes, received loves.

The end justified the course, yet the origin designed the course, the course dictated the end yet the end caused the unique origin. The cycle never truly ended.

His origin was his wish, his origin was his dream, he wished to become strong, wished to cure his sister, wished to avenge his parents. His origin designed his course, so he left his home, left his sister, left his late parents, that was his course.

Therefore he wandered around the world, wandered into ruins, wandered between the land of death and life, he saw life, saw darkness, saw hope, that was his course. His course dictated his end, after countless struggles, after countless humiliations, he grew strong, grew mature, he won his nemesis, won his lover, he achieved his dream, achieved his promise, that was his end.

His end caused a new origin, he found sentiment, found purpose, found happiness, he was going home, that was his new beginning.

His every step toward the unappealing yet familiar landscape was accompanied with the leaves that fell from the old tree, all things would eventually return to their root, all birds would eventually return to their nest, all descendants would eventually return to their home.

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In front of him was his clan, it was appealing yet unfamiliar, the floor was clean without any fallen leaf, without any old tree. But there were many men and women, guarding the gigantic door that led to their ancestral home.

"Junior offer his/her sincere greeting to Ancestor!" They kowtowed on the ground, shaking with excitement. Their great ancestor had finally returned home!

His face was emotionless, his mind was blank, who were these people? How long had he gone out? No one would ever know.

In front of him was his house, it was unappealing yet familiar, the place was empty without any soul, without any disturbance. The incense sticks were burning dimly before him, at the end of his room was two old pictures. They invoked countless memories and tear.

"Your son offer his sincere greeting to his parents!" He kowtowed on the ground, shaking with grief. Your obedient son had finally returned home!

"Your son has avenged you. Mother, father." His shaky voice could only be heard by himself. His parents had long left. He was alone.

In front of him was a tombstone, it was new yet familiar, the place was tranquil, the place was calm. The incense sticks had already burnt out, only him could be here, only he could know her.

Now he remembered something, how he left her, how he promised her and how he treated her.

Yet again, tear rolled out of his eyes, he had myriad words to say to her, yet he couldn't do so.

Oh, how could he forget?

Oh, how could he be like this?

Oh, how could it become like this?

His every teardrop that stained the clean yet forgotten grave was accompanied with the pained memories from his old soul, All things sowed would eventually be reaped, all sappings would eventually age, all actions would eventually have reactions.

"Your husband has wronged you. Dear." His unsteady voice could only be heard by himself. His lover had long left. He was alone.

In front of him was a monument, it was appealing yet unfamiliar, the place was lively, the place was crowded. The incense sticks were burning brighter than ever, all the clan members were here, only he didn't know her.

His expression was pale, his mind was blank, who was this person? How was he so anxious? He would soon know.

Oh, big bro, I hope you are safe.

Oh, big bro, I hope you find love.

Oh, big bro, I hope you return.

Now he had forgotten all things, how he left her, how he promised her and how he treated her.

Yet again, blood seeped out of him, he had no word to tell to her, he also couldn't tell her.

When all the blood no longer seeped out, when his soul was worn out. He looked up to the Heaven for one last time, muttered words and walked away into the distance, toward his home, toward his end.

His course dictated his end, he left his sister, he left his lover, that was his course. He wept at her death, he mourned her fate, that was his end.

"Don't cultivate." Father, Mother, dear, sister. I'm coming soon.

The sound of teardrops that crashed into the soil was as memorable as ever, legend told that the tear itself was the performance of Fate.