For the next several days, Chen Qing went into seclusion to cultivate.
He calmly sensed every surge of power, gradually grasping the mysteries of the Grandmaster Realm amid its rises and falls.
His control grew ever more practiced, soon reaching a state of seamless perfection, smooth and flawless as one.
Several days later, morning light had just broken.
Chen Qing stood atop Wanfa Peak's Cloud-Viewing Terrace, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed into the distance.
"Senior Brother."
Qing Dai's voice came from behind him. "Ping Bo has returned."
A cry rang out from the horizon, piercing the morning mist and tearing through the sky.
A Golden Feather Eagle dove from the clouds.
Drawing in its wings, it landed steadily on the bluestone ground at the edge of the Cloud-Viewing Terrace.
On the eagle's back, Ping Bo knelt on one knee, gripping the eagle saddle with one hand while the other condensed true essence into a translucent barrier that firmly shielded the person behind him.
The barrier dispersed like ripples on water the instant they landed.
"Mother!"
Chen Qing moved, and in the next instant, he was before the eagle.
Before Madam Han could make out her surroundings, a pair of strong hands had already supported her steadily.
"...A Qing?"
Her voice was soft and dazed.
The journey had been too fast.
So fast that she had not even recovered from that morning in Gaolin County.
Everything felt like an overly vivid dream.
A few fine lines had appeared between Madam Han's brows, several strands of white now threaded her temples, and the skin on the backs of her hands had loosened somewhat.
At last, she saw the person before her clearly.
It was Chen Qing.
His features had not changed much. He was still the boy who