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In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go. Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass. Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons. On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes. A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past. Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.