The years of the Jianghu hasten men into old age; each new generation replaces the old.
When Zhang Qingyuan had heard those words in his previous life, he had sighed over the blade light and sword shadows of the Jianghu. Yet having never experienced it himself, he had not felt much.
But now,
having returned after two hundred years away,
as he looked across the cultivators of all Moon Connect Island, there were only a scant few he still recognized.
The Clan Leaders, elders, fellow clansmen of his generation whom he had met, even the outstanding junior cultivators under the Zhang Family and the familiar juniors who worked for Moon Connect Island—all of them had withered away one after another.
The people he knew
were all gone.
The occasional ones who remained were already bent with age.
The entire Moon Liên Islands had been transformed anew.
The original island chain
had now become a great island.
Everything had changed.
After all, it could no longer return to the way it had looked in his memories.
Zhang Changyang's passing
undoubtedly filled Zhang Qingyuan with a faint sorrow.
It was a grief difficult to describe in words.
It lingered faintly within his heart,
leaving Zhang Qingyuan silent.
Before Zhang Changyang's grave, he stood for an entire day and night!
In this world,
there was no longer a Thirteenth Uncle!
Zhang Qingyuan let out a long sigh.
Standing with hands behind back,
he slightly raised his head and looked towards the heavens.
"Miss Yang, thank you for these years."
Zhang Qingyuan suddenly spoke.
Within his perception, a figure had appeared beneath the big tree behind him.
There was no need to look.
He already knew who it was.
For a moment,
a thousand words condensed into this single sentence.
Zhang Qingyuan had already