Revisiting the Old Place, the Starting Point of Cultivation

From that day when they parted at Lingyun Mountain, Shen Yun took Shen Qingruo away from Ask Dao Mountain and traveled through the myriad landscapes of mountains and rivers.

This journey held no more slaughter or strife, only a calmness that had seen through the rise and fall of worldly affairs.

One morning in Upper Capital City, the wind carried a chill as it swept flowers filling the sky into the air, scattering them in a flurry like a grand snowfall.

The two walked through Qiyun Mountain, following stone paths and crossing wooden bridges. Suddenly, they saw a tree shedding blossoms like rain, beneath which sat a woman with delicate hands, brewing tea.

Shen Yun quietly watched the Qiong Flowers drift into the teacup and spread layer upon layer of ripples. All the farewells and blessings left unspoken were swallowed in a single drink of that warm, fragrant tea.

After leaving Upper Capital, the two stepped into the territory of the Northern Wasteland.

The Mountain Gate of the Sword Sect remained imposing and precipitous, standing amid rolling clouds. Sword Light flashed across the Martial Arts Arena, while the disciples sweated like rain, and the howling of sword winds rang without end.

Shen Yun did not alarm too many people. He merely entered the rear mountain with several old friends, including Situ Feng, and sat facing them beneath the ancient pines.

They laughed and reminisced about their old adventures slaying demons. There was no distinction of status in their words, only the bold spirit of brothers who would trust each other with their lives.

After drinking their fill and exchanging a few words of parting, Shen Yun turned and left beneath everyone's gaze. His sleeves fluttered as he gradually vanished into the boundless depths of the Cloud Sea.