"..."
Seeing the young man's humble, awkward, helpless expression, yet revealing a hint of pride, he remained silent.
Opening his mouth, he originally wanted to ask how these two young fellows ended up at the point of divorce, no, breaking off an engagement, but couldn't squeeze out a word for half a day.
Truly.
He had lived nearly a thousand years, yet hadn't lived as splendidly as this young man had in twenty years.
He naturally had heard of Yan Yurou. Lan Tianyong was about the same age as him, an old thing who, even as his time approached, specifically took in a closed-door disciple. To think, he hadn't taken a satisfactory disciple in three hundred years.
To break this pattern for her, one could imagine how terrifyingly gifted that little girl was.
Although he rarely left the deep mountains for many years, some juniors in the sect would sometimes come to chat with him, and naturally, the most talked-about topic was about the juniors.
