Whoosh!
Crossing an immeasurable distance, Chen Feng appeared directly before Chen Changsheng.
Looking at the amber-colored fine wine on the table, Chen Feng picked it up and drained it in one gulp.
"Refreshing!"
"No matter how good the fine wine outside is, it still cannot compare to the sweet fragrance of wine from home!"
"Sir, another bowl!"
As he spoke, Chen Feng held out his wine bowl to Chen Changsheng.
Looking at the stubble-covered Chen Feng, Chen Changsheng smiled and picked up the wine jar to fill it for him.
After downing three bowls of fine wine in succession, Chen Feng finally sat down in satisfaction.
Looking at this old friend whose bearing had changed so greatly, Chen Changsheng said softly, "You suffered many grievances on this journey, didn't you?"
"Some."
"Were you given a hard time?"
"Yes."
"Was it bitter?"
"It was."
"Was it painful?"
"Painful!"
Upon receiving that answer, Chen Changsheng asked no more. Instead, he raised his bowl and toasted Chen Feng.
As the fine wine slid down his throat, Chen Changsheng tasted every bitterness and hardship within it.
Before leaving the Pill Epoch, Chen Feng had been a sword cultivator brimming with youthful spirit and chivalrous pride that soared to the heavens.
But now, the sword cultivator Chen Feng of old had become a man whose eyes were filled with the weariness of time.
Perhaps only he himself knew just how arduous this road had been.
"Did you never suspect that I had faked my death?"
Chen Changsheng asked. Chen Feng smiled faintly. "I never once believed that Sir would die."
"Since you believed I was not dead, why did you still leave?"
"Because I did not dare gamble on something that was almost impossible to happen."
Hearing this, Chen Changsheng nodded slightly, then raised his