Three figures raced between the mountains.
Ye Qiuchen and his companions were travel-worn. They had covered nearly half the distance in seven days, but all three looked utterly bedraggled.
After pushing themselves hard and weathering battle after battle, their clothes were tattered. Their hair was matted with blood and dust, clumped together until they looked like vagrants.
Still, they were thrilled. They were getting closer and closer.
"Let's rest for a while! We've covered nearly half the distance today. We don't need to rush so much for the second half!" Long Hai called to the other two as he flew.
"Sure. We'll rest by the river up ahead!"
Ye Qiuchen pointed to the broad river in the distance.
The three said no more. They flew several more li to the riverbank and landed.
"These old arms and legs of mine have been through the wringer. Keep this up, and my old bones will fall apart!" Long Hai sat by the river, pounding his legs and panting heavily. He couldn't help looking toward Ye Qiuchen.
"Truly, each generation surpasses the last. The waves behind drive those ahead onto the shore!"
Ye Qiuchen was a rising star, yet his strength was on par with Long Hai's—both were peak Xiantian Martial Artists. The problem was that although Ye Qiuchen's breathing was a little ragged too, he was clearly in much better shape. At least he wasn't sprawled on the ground, too exhausted to get up.
Even Hui Hai was in much better shape than Long Hai. It really was no use refusing to admit he was getting old.
Ye Qiuchen filled a waterskin and handed it to Long Hai. "You're too kind, Long Hai. Your Xiantian breath is deep and steady. I've been chasing after you the whole way and could barely keep