"Master, why do we have to return to Qingcheng Mountain Village every ten years?"
A boy with two buns on his head asked out of curiosity.
The boy's companion was a Daoist whose hair had already turned snow-white, and his beard nearly reached the ground.
"Oh, you are still young and probably unaware that over two hundred years ago, I left my hometown to learn the arts of a True One in the outside world, enduring untold hardships before finally mastering them. Having followed the Dao, it is natural to give back to the village."
The True Person of Qingcheng Mountain said with some emotion.
As the two walked along, their shadows slowly lengthening, his gaze turned towards the sky as if reflecting on something.
The difficult days appeared in the True Person of Qingcheng Mountain's eyes, and the hardships he suffered were truly understood only by him. It was those pains that made him think of giving Qingcheng Mountain Village a chance.
