Hearing the calls of the younger generation beside him, Meng Laoyezi suddenly realized he had unknowingly shed old tears. As Qi Shejiang sang halfway, he heard the commotion, faintly catching Meng Jingyuan’s voice. He curiously put down the bamboo clapper and pushed through the crowd, only to be left standing in shock.
Amid a crowd of people, there was an old man with tears streaming down his face, looking this way. He was tall and lean, with crescent-shaped smiling eyes that gave a sense of familiarity. Although his face was wrinkled, Qi Shejiang found a trace of old times from those already clouded smiling eyes. He trembled all over, unable to believe, let alone recognize, because that was someone he had long deemed to be no longer in this world; perhaps, people could bear a resemblance…
However, in the next moment, under the concerned gaze of others, the old man looked at him and hoarsely asked, “Young man, who is Qi Mengzhou to you?” In that instant, Qi Shejiang felt as if the world spun around him, a chill spread across his face, and his tears flowed uncontrollably. Qi Mengzhou? Since he joined his master’s sect, his master had given him the stage name Mengzhou, and from then on, he traveled the world under this name.
Chapter Thirty-One The crowd was in utter astonishment, except for Meng Jingyuan and Luo Xia; the rest didn’t understand what was happening. Who was Qi Mengzhou, and what did this name represent?
