In front of a dusty village, Shan Yuan saw him wearing coarse cloth playing with children at the edge of the village.
"You're such an old man, and you still can't sit still, Lin Xi." A soft call like water sounded from behind.
The man's originally flexible figure suddenly froze, and a child accidentally bumped into him without any awareness. He turned back slowly, and after what seemed like a long time, he finally met the eyes that had been painted countless times in his memory. Lin Xi looked deeply, then turned around, raised his hands, folded them, and said with great solemnity: "Sir."
"Let's go, my teacher will take you home."