Many people in the ancient city saw Meng Tianzheng return. Some young prodigies cast glances his way, with an occasional hint of gloating among them, but most felt regret.
Only after Meng Tianzheng and Lin Yue had gone far away did those people realize that someone seemed to have returned with him. How had they forgotten so quickly? They had not even noticed him earlier.
Looking at the ancient garden before them, the two stepped straight inside without stopping. Many medicinal plants grew there, including even a divine herb.
A middle-aged man stood there, his face steeped in sorrow and his eyes bloodshot. He understood his child's condition better than anyone. Meng Tianzheng had failed at using the self as the seed and nearly died a gruesome death. Though he had risen afterward through sheer, indomitable will, his body was deteriorating and his vitality drying up. At this rate, death was inevitable. As his father, he had sought out relatives and friends, even asking mighty cultivators to intervene, but none could heal him. He could only watch his child's life ebb away day after day. No one knew that agony.
Upon seeing Meng Tianzheng, the man smiled again. At least he would not make his child worry about his own father as well.
"Zheng! You're back."
His voice came out hoarse. Clearly, he was not doing well either.
"Brother Lin, this is my father."
Only when his child spoke did the father realize there was someone else present.
"Hahaha! Are you Zheng's friend? Forgive the embarrassing sight. I'm his uncle-aged father, Meng Tong. Come, come, please head inside!"
The middle-aged man came to his senses and hurriedly invited the young man, who resembled a sage of ancient times, deeper into the garden.
"I am Lin Yue. Greetings, Fellow Daoist Meng