That aged figure sat cross-legged, dressed in a gray Daoist robe.
His hair was streaked with white, his features ancient and simple, and his face was devoid of any emotion.
Li Weiyi had just stood up, wanting to walk towards his master.
But the game had already ended.
His master, who had been sitting in meditation, said something to the person opposite him, then turned and left, arriving at the edge of the stone platform and leaping off.
"Master!"
Li Weiyi shouted, quickly chasing after him and jumping off the stone platform as well.
A sense of weightlessness washed over him, and Li Weiyi instantly became clear-headed, pulling himself out of the intense feelings of longing.
He discovered that he was plummeting rapidly, the bone-chilling wind howling loudly in his ears.
He immediately released his spiritual light, condensing a patch of light mist beneath his feet to support his falling body.
After stabilizing himself, Li Weiyi wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and looked around, but there was no sign of his master.
"An illusion, a phantom... If it were really Master, how could he possibly ignore me? Master is already dead. I buried him with my own hands."