"Alas."
White Scholar Tree Flowers drifted down in a flutter.
Zhang Qingyuan stood quietly where he was, not knowing how long had passed.
In the end, his myriad thoughts turned into one long sigh.
In truth,
Although he was Daoist Ming Shui's disciple, Zhang Qingyuan did not know much about his own Master.
The other had guided him several times and had even passed the Water Element Lineage inheritance on to him.
But beyond that,
What kind of person Daoist Ming Shui had been, what he had done, and what position he had held within the Cloud Water Sect—Zhang Qingyuan had only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg when the other had made his final arrangements.
As for anything more, he knew nothing at all.
To Zhang Qingyuan, his Master Daoist Ming Shui was shrouded in a mist so thick that even he could not see through it.
For example,
Daoist Ming Shui had instructed him to bring his remains back to his homeland and bury them beneath that old locust tree of the Yue Family.
That alone revealed quite a bit of information.
According to him, after accidentally ending up in the Yuzhou Cultivation World several centuries ago, he had been trapped in that world for many years. No matter how hard he searched, he could not find a path back, and it had become the greatest regret of his life.
Now, eight hundred years had already passed.
The world changed, vast seas turned into mulberry fields—how could he have been certain that the Yue Family still existed, that it was still in that same place, or that the locust tree he had planted with his childhood sweetheart had not withered away?
There was only one possibility: he had returned before.
After Zhang Qingyuan told him about the Intercontinental