"Xuanxiao!!!"
A booming shout, ringing like a great bell and brimming with surprise and disbelief, pierced through the clamor of Liuyun Sect's hastily erected, somewhat dilapidated mountain gate plaza.
Cao Changjing rushed down from the stone steps of the main hall, undisguised ecstasy written across his face. In just a few strides, he reached Ling Xuanxiao, who had only just landed.
He stretched out a palm-leaf fan-sized hand and heavily slapped Ling Xuanxiao's shoulder.
"Ha ha ha! Good lad! Never would've thought it! How many years has it been?
"I thought you'd either died somewhere, or tucked yourself away in some godforsaken corner to lie low. I figured we wouldn't meet again until the year of the monkey and month of the horse! Never expected this, never expected it!"
Cao Changjing laughed loudly as he vigorously shook Ling Xuanxiao's shoulders, as though trying to confirm that this was not an illusion.
Yet amid those warm slaps and shakes,
Cao Changjing's hawk-sharp eyes quietly swept over Ling Xuanxiao's face and body.
Something was wrong.
Though the joy of reunion struck him hard, Cao Changjing was a cultivator tempered in blood and fire, and his instincts were exceptionally keen.
The Ling Xuanxiao before him had changed... far too much from when they had parted several years ago.
Back then, though Ling Xuanxiao bore the identity of a Shushan Disciple and the urgent burden of Di Nüfeng's life hanging by a thread, his brows had held an inextinguishable heaviness and exhaustion.
Yet deep in his eyes, an unyielding flame had still burned, like a stubborn piece of iron forged beneath a thousand hammers that had yet to break.
But now, Ling Xuanxiao's expression remained calm, even indifferent.
That oppressive weariness seemed even deeper, weighing heavily in his eyes and nearly burying the flame