The grandmaster's sudden action stunned his disciples and their students.
Feng Kezheng and A-Wen hurried forward to steady the old man, who was so agitated he could barely stand. But Chen Shi'an had already glided over and firmly supported Senior Feng's withered arm. His flowing footwork left even these longtime martial artists dumbstruck; they had not even seen how he got there.
"Senior Feng, you've mistaken me for someone else."
Chen Shi'an's voice was gentle and clear, carrying a peculiar soothing power. Despite Feng Dekun's deafness, he heard every word with unusual clarity.
"How could I-Daoist Master Chen-how could I fail to recognize you-"
"Chen Yunshou was my master. I am his disciple, Chen Shi'an. I have come at my late master's request to pay my respects, Senior Feng."
"Daoist-Daoist Master Chen's disciple? Late master-?"
A trace of bewilderment crossed Feng Dekun's cloudy eyes. He instinctively clutched Chen Shi'an's wrist, looking up and struggling to focus on the young face before him.
Feng Kezheng spoke up beside them. "Dad-you've forgotten? I went to see Daoist Master Chen off on your behalf that time-"
"-And who are you?"
Feng Kezheng: "..."
But Feng Dekun paid him no heed, simply staring at Chen Shi'an.
How could I be mistaken-
Who else in this world besides the living immortal Chen Yunshou could possess such a refined, otherworldly bearing?
Chen Shi'an sighed inwardly. Bowing slightly, he said softly, "Master has passed on. I am his disciple, Chen Shi'an."
Feng Dekun shuddered as though struck by lightning. His grip on Chen Shi'an loosened helplessly, tears streamed down his aged face, and he murmured-
"Gone-Daoist Master Chen is gone too-I-I-"
The light in his eyes quickly dimmed, as though immense grief and the fog of dementia had enveloped him once more.
Chen Shi'an could not bear