Lin Shisan was beside the Spiritual Spring, circulating his ninth greater celestial circuit. The blue-white sword aura at his fingertip had settled from the thickness of a chopstick to the width of three fingers held together. The golden patterns along its edges had gained another ring since yesterday, its aura as steady as a tamed mountain stream.
The Dao Fruit of the Lingxi Sword Art's second stage was being consolidated bit by bit.
Just then, the Message Stone inside his robes suddenly flashed. A warm white glow seeped through the fabric, particularly conspicuous amid the Spiritual Spring's dark red light.
He opened his eyes, and the sword aura at his fingertip dissipated. He reached into his robes, and the instant he poured spiritual power into the Message Stone, a familiar voice emerged. "Young Master Lin, Yan'er is missing."
Long Shuang'er's voice was hoarser than it had been a year ago, as though she had spent far too many nights awake.
"The day before yesterday, she kept insisting on going to find you. I couldn't stop her. I spent all night persuading her, and she agreed, but the next day..."
"When I got up in the morning, her room was already empty. The bedding was neatly folded, and she'd left a note. There was only one sentence on it: I'm going to find Master's Master."
Lin Shisan's chest suddenly tightened. Holding the Message Stone, he crouched beside the Spiritual Spring and watched the reflection of his own furrowed brows in the water.
Long Shuang'er would not joke about something like this. She was Long Yan'er's aunt, and Yan'er was one of the few relatives she had left in this world.
"Have you heard anything on your end? Has she contacted you?"
Lin Shisan was silent for a moment before speaking, his