Hui Jian Yu stood near the bridge. Many thoughts crossed his mind. He watched the long, beautiful bridge and thought about how many times during the years Zhang Li Qiang would have walked on this bridge. How many times he would have watched the fairies dancing on the blue water of Emerald Brook?
When Zhang Lia Qiang meets him, will his eyes be snow-white like Emerald Brook grass? Or there would be enthusiasm and excitement like the water of Monkcastle sea? And would he be able to meet him? At this thought, his heart swelled like an overturned boat drowning in the Monkcastle sea.
He patted Zixions hair. A young man of Hui Jian Yu and Gong Ah's age was approaching them. Only his outer white coat was visible and it had covered the rest of his clothes. The young man's nose had turned red due to the cold and he was rubbing his hands together. His complexion was as golden as the sun of the Qinqiehepai sect and his eyes as grey as heavy clouds.
