Do not ask if time flows like water, merely count this year from today.
In Yancheng, at the gate of the Hengshan Sect, outside the Hidden Sword Pavilion, the pavilons are still there, the vegetation forms a screen, carrying a gentle, floating fragrance.
In front of the incense, there stand two silhouettes.
"Rong, as you gaze towards Sichuan, are you worrying about Yu Zhen?"
"Why should I worry about him?"
"His martial arts have improved greatly over these years, and besides, he is not going to Mount Emei alone."
Zhao Rong paused, then sighed lightly, "The world is ever so enduring, in comparison, how fleeting is human life."
"Five years ago, a disciple from Mount Emei came to deliver a message, and not long after, Master Jinguang of Mount Emei passed away. At that time, Feng and Xiang went to Mount Emei to offer their condolences."
Qu Feiyan silently nodded, quietly listening to his words.
