The sun rose as the moon set, the days turning into nights.
The biting frost grew heavier with each passing day. In the blink of an eye, the mountain forests had turned a withered yellow.
Before Laojun Cliff, dozens of young Daoist children in their early teens practiced their Martial Arts with energetic shouts.
Not far behind them, a group of young Daoists in their twenties were practicing with Peach Wood Swords, their blades whistling through the air.
Daoist Yun Hao stood on the high cliff with a longsword on his back, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"Zhao Rui, are you really planning to go back?"
"If I don't, I'm afraid the school will expel me!"
Zhao Rui joked, then continued, "Don't worry, I'll come back to visit often. I've been here for the better part of half a year; I've grown attached to the place."
