This didn't count as crying. She just had something in her eyes. Something seven years old.
Yang Wanqing was much more open than she was.
"Master..." Her voice was muffled by his sleeve, thick with tears. "Seven years. Seven whole years. Do you know how much I've missed you...?"
Chen Hao patted the top of her head with his other hand.
"I know."
"No, you don't!" Yang Wanqing raised her head, her face a mess of tears and snot, but she didn't care. She glared at Chen Hao with reddened eyes. "You disappeared for seven years! I came to see that lamp every day! Every single day!"
"Mm."
"That's all you have to say?!"
Chen Hao looked at her.
Then he said, "Your cultivation—after seven years, you've only reached the middle stage of Heavenly Dharma Form?"
Yang Wanqing's expression froze, and her sobbing cut off.
She lifted her face from Chen Hao's arm, tears smeared all over it, her expression shifting from deeply moved to something subtly choked.
Tears still clung to her face, and her mouth hung open. It was as though someone had pressed pause on her.
Two seconds later...
"Master! You just came back to life, and the first thing you ask about is cultivation!"
"That was the third thing."
"Still in the first three!" Yang Wanqing released his arm and stepped back, wiping the tears from her face as she complained:
"Can't you act like a normal person?! You just came back to life! What would a normal person say? 'I missed you all!' 'Thank you for everything you've done over the years!' And you ask about cultivation!"
Chen Hao regarded her calmly.
"You really should reflect on your cultivation."
Yang Wanqing's lips trembled twice before she turned to Chen Siyao. "Siyao, did you hear that?!