Beside a certain Immortal Tomb.
A steady-faced man looked toward the group in the distance. He calmly cupped his hands, a remarkably composed smile appearing at the corner of his lips. "My lord, everyone, I have returned..."
The people in the distance possessed fierce auras, and each looked stranger than the last. At a glance, none of them seemed like good people.
That was right—they were the people of the Prison Pavilion, Chen Xun's first batch of trusted followers, peerless fierce men who had dared to follow him in defying the Three Thousand Great Worlds in their youth.
"Qian Shan."
Ji Yan smiled faintly and nodded. "You have not been by my side for many years. I have truly found it rather unaccustomed."
"Then it seems I can once again remain often at your side, my lord. The Nine-Heavens Immortal Alliance will have another salary expense to add." Qian Shan's smile deepened, his words carrying a touch of humor.
"Qian Shan, cut the nonsense!"
Tian Li spoke viciously, his voice still as deep and muffled as ever, making people want to beat him up. "We never finished that jar of wine back then. Over these years, I brewed tens of thousands of bottles, all waiting for you to come back!"
"Good!" Qian Shan nodded heavily.
"Qian Shan!"
"...Qian Shan."
"Hehe, Qian Shan."
Calls filled with laughter rang out one after another, carrying immense relief. Fortunately, they were still here, and they could still witness Qian Shan's return with their own eyes.
"Everyone." Qian Shan's gaze was weathered as it swept across each familiar face.
They were all doing well. Their auras were far stronger than they had been back then.
Just then.
"Senior Qian Shan!"
Suddenly, a familiar voice that shook the depths of his Dao heart came from