"Master, your disciple came too late and made you suffer."
That soft greeting drowned out the lingering silence of the entire city.
Zheng Shan shook his head again and again, his palm trembling slightly.
He heavily patted Wang Yuan's shoulder, his eyes filled with relief and gratification.
"Not late! Not late at all!"
"Yuan'er... You made it back. You saved Gaoye City, saved all of us. That is enough!"
His greatest wish in this life had been for his disciple to have a future as splendid as brocade, safe and smooth all the way through.
Now, Wang Yuan had returned home in glory and saved the city's people in the midst of utter despair.
All the painstaking effort Zheng Shan had poured into teaching martial arts and nurturing others throughout his life had been worth it.
Meanwhile, Shi Long, Zheng Ying, Shang Yong, and the others stood around Wang Yuan. Looking at the young man whose imposing might soared to the heavens, their hearts remained full of dazed disbelief and astonishment.
They only knew that Wang Yuan had entered the Kaoshan Sect, one of Cloud Province's foremost sects, and that he had vanished without a word for several years.
Then the troubled times erupted, and flames of war surrounded the city.
Everyone had worried day and night, afraid that he might encounter danger outside.
They had never even dared to imagine what level of cultivation he had attained, or how well he was doing.
In their memories, Wang Yuan was still that somewhat green young disciple who had diligently practiced his fists at Panshi Fist Academy.
Zheng Shan looked at his disciple, concern in his voice.
"Yuan'er, these past few years... were you well in Cloud Province? You did not suffer, did you?"
Shi Long, Zheng Ying, and Shang Yong