Amid the swirling spiritual mist, a mid-grade Spirit Boat drifted down toward the mountain gates of the Condensed Jade Sect like a cloud.
When the Spirit Boat settled firmly on the ground, its hull gave only a slight tremor before the cabin door slowly opened.
A party flew out from within, with Qing Chen and Xu Jiuling in the lead.
Qing Chen raised his head slightly and swept a casual glance around.
Before the mountain gates stood more than a dozen disciples guarding the mountain, arranged in neat ranks.
He could not help muttering inwardly, I don't recognize any of them anymore. All new faces.
At the sight before him, an indescribable melancholy involuntarily welled up deep in his heart.
Time had flowed on, and the familiar faces of old could no longer be found.
Whether they had once been enemies or friends.
His gaze passed over those young, unfamiliar faces one by one.
His thoughts, too, seemed tugged by an invisible force, drifting back twenty or thirty years.
Back then, he had been nothing more than an utterly unremarkable outer sect disciple, struggling at the bottom of the sect.
To make something of himself within the sect and get that "Li Feiyu" to see him in a different light, he had resolutely taken a risk and gambled everything on it.
It was precisely that gamble that had earned him an audience with Xu Jiuling.
Later, perhaps because fortune favored him, he had gained the chance to follow at the side of the true disciple Gu Jianchun.
Yet who could have imagined that whenever he passed these mountain gates...
There would always be mountain-guarding disciples whose gazes stabbed straight at him, making him uncomfortable all over.
Those eyes brimmed with undisguised envy, jealousy, and hatred.
They seemed to ask why