"Fine, this old man shall take his leave!" Yin Meng hurriedly bowed, then strode down from the teahouse.
Zhang Qingxiao watched Yin Meng's retreating back. A faint, almost imperceptible sneer curved his lips, only to be swallowed at once by sorrow. He raised his eyes toward the somewhat gloomy horizon, where dusk was gathering and half a crimson sun hung above the mountaintop. "Little Junior Brother, you... in the end, you still went! Sigh, you're only a little Foundation Establishment cultivator—what the hell were you doing joining in at Mo Ran Black Forest??? Damn it, I only wanted to scheme against those two sword cultivators. You and sword cultivators... sigh, I get it. Wasn't it all for that damned flying sword of yours? You wanted to obtain some sword spirit! You... you could have told me! I have complete sword cultivator sword arts here! You could have nurtured a sword spirit anew; even if you wanted to refine your flying sword from scratch, that would have been possible! Why did you have to go to Mo Ran Black Forest of all places???"
"Sigh, you're gone. You left just like that, free and unrestrained. In this world... only Junior Sister remains! What meaning is there in my living on? What use is there in all my schemes against demonic cultivators, Daoist sects, and sword cultivators? Even if I slaughtered those three Nascent Soul cultivators who came from gods knew where, who would laugh with me to the bitter end???"
"Little Junior Brother, Little Junior Brother, why didn't you stay in Thunder Control Sect and cultivate properly? Why did you run off? The last time I saw you, you were still a disciple at the twelfth layer of Qi Cultivation. Who could have imagined that after only a few years, you had