After the Soul Realm collapsed, the various factions across the Central Plains gradually settled down as well.
With the threat of the Soul Clan gone, peace finally returned to the continent.
Over the past half year, Han Feng had harnessed the power of space to expand and reinforce the original territory of the Falling Star Pavilion.
The mountain ranges now stretched endlessly, the barriers had become impregnable, and the energy of heaven and earth within was exceptionally abundant. Only now had the Falling Star Pavilion truly been transformed into an independent great realm.
Within the bamboo grove behind the mountain, a pot of freshly brewed hot tea sat on a stone table.
Han Feng lifted the teapot himself and poured Medicine Elder a cup.
Medicine Elder raised the teacup and took a light sip before speaking softly. "A few days ago, the Yao Clan sent Wan Huo Elder with an invitation, asking me to attend the Medicine Canon. They also said... said that the clan had carved my parents' names back onto the ancestral stele."
After saying that, Medicine Elder set his teacup down on the table.
Ever since he had been driven out of the Yao Clan all those years ago, he had not set foot on that land again.
Back then, before his parents' graves, he had sworn that he would devote himself to cultivation. One day, he would carve their names back onto the ancestral stele.
Now that wish had finally been fulfilled. The old man's knuckles beneath his sleeves could not help trembling slightly.
Han Feng put down his tea bowl and smiled. "Those Yao Clan fellows are quick to follow the wind. If you want to go, Teacher, I'll accompany you."
Medicine Elder waved him off and sighed. "I'm only going back to see the