Shen Miao paced beneath the parasol tree outside the Pill Furnace Hall.
His elongated shadow was embraced by the gentle breeze.
The leaves rustled, whispering words of comfort. 'It's okay. I'll definitely make it.'
'Even if it doesn't work out this time, there's always next time.'
The sound of footsteps approached from a distance.
They were just ordinary footsteps, yet Shen Miao detected a hint of exhaustion in them.
After listening for a moment, he realized why. The scraping sound of soles dragging against the ground revealed just how heavy the steps were.
It was as if the person no longer had the strength to lift their feet completely off the ground with each step, letting them fall heavily instead.
Shen Miao looked up. His grandmaster, Ma Chongyu, wore a blank expression.
But the gloom that seemed to be cast by the tree's shadow was enough for him to understand.
