A warship, as imposing as a mountain, slowly ascended into the air. Chen Changsheng stood on its deck, gazing towards the direction of the Great Gan Dynasty.
Fifty years had passed in the blink of an eye, and the faces of old friends flashed through Chen Changsheng's mind once more.
The kind-hearted, timid little monk; his ever-present, clinging ninth senior brother; the severely injured third senior brother.
And the little girl who always called him "Brother Changsheng."
A myriad of emotions welled up within him, and an indescribable feeling arose in Chen Changsheng's eyes.
At this moment, Zuo Xinghe approached.
"Sir, what are you looking at?"
Zuo Xinghe's words pulled Chen Changsheng back from his reverie.
"Just looking at old friends."
"But this place is a full thirty thousand
