Gu Qing froze for a moment, then could not help laughing.
The youth surnamed Yuan raised his sleeve and wiped his eyes.
The other Green Mountain disciples called out with smiles, "Greetings, Martial Uncle!"
The disciples from the other sects laughed as well.
Hahahaha!
Joyful laughter echoed across the Snowfield; even the cold mist beyond the cliff seemed to retreat a little.
The Zhongzhou Sect disciples were happy too, but why was their senior sister nowhere to be seen?
Xiang Wanshu darted toward the cave, cupping his hands in a bow as he passed Jing Jiu.
Gu Qing entered the cave, knelt before Jing Jiu, and kowtowed once.
"Rise," Jing Jiu said.
Gu Qing stood and looked at his face. Seeing that he was thinner than before, he felt a jolt of alarm.
An ordinary cultivator, even if they had not frozen to death in the bitter cold, would have developed problems after six years cut off from the world.
Cultivating the Dao and practicing grain avoidance could not solve everything.
But Gu Qing knew his master had never needed such things.
His gaze fell on Jing Jiu's clothes, and he was startled again.
This white robe from the summit of Divine End Peak could withstand water and fire, and even ordinary flying swords could hardly cut it, yet now it was badly damaged, its edges riddled with tears!
Was the cold mist really so terrifying? How had he endured these six years?
Gu Qing could no longer worry about anything else. Knowing it was presumptuous, he still released his sword sense onto Jing Jiu, only to be even more shocked.
Jing Jiu's sword essence was nearly exhausted, and his body was weak to the extreme!
Gu Qing hurried forward and took his hand.
He had intended to ask: since