A hundred years passed in the blink of an eye.
For people at their level of cultivation, a hundred years was merely a single meditation session.
On this day, the white-haired young man meditating suddenly sensed something, and abruptly stood up.
In the next second, the void in front of him twisted, and two figures stumbled out of it, supporting each other.
Seeing that they had finally found the right time and space, the two figures sighed in relief, as if exhausted, and collapsed to the ground, gasping heavily, with expressions of weariness and hopelessness.
Where did these beggars come from?
That was the white-haired young man's first impression of these two people.
Their clothes were tattered, hair disheveled, and they only had one shoe each, with one big toe exposed.
"Where did these insignificant scoundrels come from, trespassing into my White Jade Pavilion?!"
