Seeing the two white-bearded old men before him with tears welling in their eyes, Qin Fengming felt a wave of sorrow rise in his heart as well. He fought hard to suppress it, only barely keeping the tears from spilling out.
Family affection, though already faint in the eyes of most cultivators, had never faded for Qin Fengming. Since childhood, he had been taught by Hall Master Zhang of Luoxia Valley, who had treated him like his own son. His heart of loyalty and filial devotion had long since been set in stone.
Yet things had gone against his wishes. Just as Qin Fengming had achieved something in his cultivation, Luoxia Sect had sent him to the Ancient Battlefield. That journey had lasted six or seven decades. Even though he had wanted to return home for a look, he could no longer do so.
Given Qin Fengming's cultivation and his understanding of the Cultivation World, he naturally knew that the family ties and old friendships of the mortal world no longer had anything to do with him. If he continued to cling to them in his heart, they would surely hinder his cultivation. Yet because of his temperament, Qin Fengming still could not bring himself to sever those ties.
After helping the two men to their feet, Qin Fengming walked to the offering table where the spirit tablets were placed. He picked up a stick of incense and lit it. Facing the tablets on the table, the long-lost tears in his eyes finally dripped down.
He knelt before the tablets for a long while without saying a word, simply prostrating himself there. His thoughts, however, had already returned to ninety years ago...
Qin Meng and his grandson stood behind Qin Fengming, never uttering a word to disturb him. Sima Hao,