The group from the Chu Kingdom arrived slightly earlier. Fang Mingtong, accompanied by his grandson, King of Chu Fang Yuan, and a group of people, stopped at the city gates. As Fang Yuan looked on in bewilderment, Fang Mingtong's voice, filled with intense excitement and reverence, said solemnly: "Inside... could there be an old acquaintance?"
Soon, a young voice came from within the city, tinged with a trace of laughter: "Marshal Fang, please enter!"
The sound immediately made the corners of Fang Mingtong's eyes damp. He hadn't heard it for over sixty years, yet it felt as familiar as ever.
It was him!
The very youth who, with idle chatter back then, had stirred the winds of the Mortal Realm.
Sixty years had passed, yet his voice was still so youthful, as if time had held no meaning for him.
Soon, Fang Mingtong heard another voice—one that left him utterly shaken and trembling with excitement.
"Old friend, it has been many years. Are you well?"
