Lu Zhou thought about Gong Yuandu's descriptions and recalled the sensation he felt while he was cultivating in seclusion. "The oldest mortal is only about 100 years old… Perhaps, cultivators are just a different kind of mortals."
Gong Yuandu glanced at Lu Zhou. His gaze slid across the white strands in Lu Zhou's hair and said, "That's a fresh way of explaining it, Brother Ji. You've changed… a lot."
They were old nemeses. In a way, old nemeses knew each other better than friends did.
Lu Zhou merely nodded ambiguously. He could never tell Gong Yuandu that he was actually another person from another world that was far away.
"You've changed as well," Lu Zhou said when he compared the person before him to the person in his memories. The Gong Yuandu of his memories was not an agreeable character.
