"Greetings, Ancestral Master!"
Upon recognizing the old Daoist's face, Yang Jin hastily bowed in respect.
In the midst of the celebration, as Zhou Yi nostalgically recounted hardships and sweet memories, not a single disciple lacked a sense of gratitude. Hearing that the old ancestor's lifespan was nearing its end elicited a sense of melancholic pity for the twilight years of a hero, invoking an involuntary sympathy and closeness.
With just a few casually uttered sentences, Zhou Yi's reputation within the sect surpassed that of Tong Xuan's after more than a decade of efforts, second only to Xuan Yu.
Tong Xuan was not a fool either. After carefully considering events before and after the celebration, he realized that this seldom-seen patriarch could not be swayed by flattery, and he immediately ceased all further schemes.