The middle-aged cultivator's heart stirred.
His surname was Lin?
He quickly searched his memories but found nothing connected to that name. Yet the senior before him possessed such bearing and cultivation, and knew so many of the lineage's former and current leaders, that he dared not show any neglect.
"Please wait a moment, Senior. I'll report your arrival at once."
He bowed, then turned and hurried through the mountain gate.
Lin Changheng hovered in the air with his hands behind his back, waiting.
Dusk deepened. Luokun Mountain's evening clouds spread across the horizon like a magnificent painted scroll. The mountain breeze brushed his face, carrying the fragrance of vegetation and the moisture of flowing streams, refreshing both heart and mind.
He half closed his eyes, but many things came to mind.
Gao Dingtian, Gao Dingshan, Gao Jingshu, Zhu Fugui...
Those old acquaintances, those bygone days.
The years flowed like water, silently carrying away so many people and events. Yet some people, some memories, retained a trace of warmth even after time had washed over them.
Lin Changheng opened his eyes, his gaze calm.
His divine sense had already penetrated the formation and detected a streak of escape light rapidly approaching from within the mountain gate.
And the figure within that light was very familiar.
She wore a lake-green dress, her figure graceful, slender, and alluring, her cloudlike black hair loosely pinned with a jade hairpin.
Her face was exquisite, her brows and eyes like a painting, her skin fairer than snow. But her features had matured somewhat, and a faint layer of quiet composure had settled in her eyes.
Who else could she be but Gao Jingshu?
Lin Changheng swept his divine sense over her and sensed her cultivation in an instant.
Foundation establishment late stage.
Her aura was steady