The call of "Brother Zhao" seemed to bring both of them back to that year.
Heavy snow fell on Qingzhi Academy.
Two people stayed by Mr. Qi's side, one as a cleaner and the other as a servant.
The two of them had strolled through the market together, swept snow together, read together, and even been scolded together...
Time flies, and the years pass in a flash.
Mr. Qi has passed away, and the old people in the academy have left one after another, and new people have come in one after another...
Zhao Ji didn't know when he would have to follow.
He has become very open-minded about the nature of life and death.
A cultivator cultivates immortality, and he is able to possess spiritual roots. Even if his aptitude is not good, he is very satisfied with having lived for so many more years.
Compared to countless mortals without spiritual roots, he has already obtained his own opportunity.
Monks have their own paths to follow, and everyone’s path is different.
In fact, in the past two years, Zhao Ji vaguely felt that his time was up.
I originally thought that there was nothing to regret.
After all, he now has many children and grandchildren, and he has helped as much as he can.
As for the rest, my descendants will have their own blessings...
But there is a regret in his heart that is unknown to others. It is about the little girl who he always took care of when he was young and who followed him and called him Brother Zhao.
There are many legends about Shen Qingyi in the world of immortal cultivation, and they are all proud of her.
When they said it, they all stood up straight.
But he still remembered that in the cold winter many years ago, the skinny little girl was holding a lamp at night, her hands were blue and purple from the cold, but there was still light in her eyes!
If cultivating immortality is easy, then why are there so many people who are unwilling to do so, and why are there so many people who die young?
As she walked along, everyone saw the light she radiated, but was she burning herself in secret?
Zhao Ji's eyes were a little moist.
"Qingyi..."
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