He suddenly recalled those scenes in the Hot Spring on the Blood Rain Cult's Back Mountain, when he had taught Ye Qinghong swordsmanship.
Back then, his eldest disciple had only just returned. He was as cold as ice, untouched by the Red Dust Aura, and so had been unable to perfect the God-Shocking Sword.
But now, his eldest disciple really had grown.
His execution of the God-Shocking Sword was only a little inferior to Fang Yang's own.
Fang Yang was filled with emotion, but the next moment, Ye Qinghong swept his palm again, and a gentle breeze stirred.
Then he strode across the waves, dancing over the lake like a cold, aloof immortal, and before long, he flew onto a solitary peak.
The solitary peak thrust into the clouds like a sword.
This was the most precipitous spot in Ten-Li Mountain, and also the place closest to the moonlight.
Ye Qinghong stood on the peak, accompanied by the White Snow Lion Cat he had abducted.
A person and a cat stood side by side, gazing down at the lake water and up at the bright moon overhead.
Neither spoke a word.
A long, long time passed...
Fang Yang gazed at his disciple. For some reason, he actually sensed desolation and sorrow emanating from Ye Qinghong.
He could not help furrowing his brow, only then realizing that he had become a cat. But that did nothing to diminish his bewilderment and confusion; he had absolutely no idea why his disciple was like this.
He could only stay beside Ye Qinghong.
After a long while, he heard his cool, quiet murmur.
"Your name is Little Snow, isn't it?"
"Do you know what I used to be like?"
That inexplicable question made Fang Yang raise his head. For some reason, his glasslike eyes