"Master."
Zheng Shenyou walked respectfully in front of this gaunt old man, kneeled down, and called out.
This old man hadn't spoken for a long time, his eyes were closed, and Zheng Shenyou dared not even breathe, just kneeling in place.
After about an hour, Zheng Shenyou was already shivering from the cold when the gaunt old man finally opened his eyes.
His eyes were deep, weathered, aged.
These eyes seemed to have seen through all the worldly splendours and completely transcended from the bustling world.
"Why were you incapacitated?"
The emaciated old man asked.
There was no fluctuation of emotion in his tone, as if Zheng Shenyou was not his disciple, but a passerby with no connection to him.
"Please, Master, stand up for me!" Zheng Shenyou immediately began to cry bitterly, the pain piercing his heart, filled with infinite sorrow and anger.
The old man did not answer, still calmly sitting there, holding a fishing rod without a line, fishing.
