As they spoke,
Fang Qingyun had already disappeared into the distance, pushing the wheelchair: "Junior brother, junior brother, your timing isn't good. If you had come to the Eight Camps a few years earlier when they were thriving, you could have enjoyed some good times. Instead, you ended up in Liangzhou in these final years and became the closed-door disciple, sigh..."
The voice faded away.
The Green Robed Scholar had also vanished into the darkness.
Chen Sansi was no fool.
He could clearly hear the hidden meaning in his senior brother's words.
If he were simply sad and nostalgic, why add that last sentence?
This was a hint to him.
Thinking back,
the three-year Martial Saint pact must have been planned from the start.
Having learned the sect's martial arts, he also had to shoulder the sect's responsibilities.
Moreover...
It wasn't as if he was just following someone else's desires.
The path
was his own from the beginning.
Initially,
