In the gorge of a luxuriant forest, Jian Wushuang, who had grey hair and looked as though he was going to die any minute, was sitting in silence.
On the top of the mountain before Jian Wushuang, vroom! A sudden flowing light dove down.
One should know that the mountain was about a hundred zhang high and the person who dove down obviously didn't know how to travel in the air. But as he fell...
Bang! Bang! Bang!
His palm or feet would tap the mountain wall by the side and continuously unload the force. In the end, he landed flawlessly on the ground.
"Master," Chen Hu walked before Jian Wushuang.
After ten years, Chen Hu had grown up into a brawny good looking young man.
He carried a purple spear on his back.
"Hu Zi, you're eighteen this year, right?" Jian Wushuang lifted his head to look at Jian Wushuang.