After bidding farewell to his senior brothers, senior sisters, and junior sister, Wu Wushuang stood where he was, a faint smile still on his face.
At that moment, he felt the long-lost warmth of home...
He had already forgotten when he had last smiled so happily.
Having a home truly felt wonderful!
Silently, Wu Wushuang melted into the night and arrived in the Lower Realm of old, at the place where he had first met his master.
The little grove of the past had now become a vast forest. The trees were so thick that even ten people joining hands could not encircle one.
Su Bai was already standing there.
Seeing his master again, warmth surged through Wu Wushuang's heart, mixed with an indescribable bitterness.
All of a sudden, a Formless force spread out from Wu Wushuang. The grove's surroundings began to change—the towering trees gradually shrank, as though they were growing backward.
Time rapidly flowed backward before his eyes. The giant trees contracted into tender branches, their lush canopies shedding their grandeur and becoming short once more.
A moment later, when the trees in the forest were only as thick as bowls, a youth appeared among them.
The youth held a Wooden Sword and was practicing basic sword techniques.
The Wooden Sword sliced through the air, producing monotonous yet resilient whooshing sounds. Sweat soaked the loose strands of hair before his forehead.
That resolute appearance of the youth could still faintly be seen in Wu Wushuang now.
Wu Wushuang gazed at that clumsy yet stubborn figure, as though he had pierced through countless days and nights of blood and fire to see his original self.
As he trained, the youth would occasionally glance in a certain direction. Once he finished, he would bow toward that direction, as though someone