Suddenly, Yang Fei noticed the scar on the man's face, the wound was deep, and the cut was neat, clearly a sword wound.
A sudden pang of heartache pierced Yang Fei's heart.
Looking at the man's handsome and formidable face, his casual demeanor masked an indescribable weariness.
Yang Fei truly did not know what kind of terrifying enemy this man was facing.
The man kept smiling, his eyes filled with warmth, like the sunshine of October.
This gave his entire face an endless charm, full of anticipation.
Yang Fei knew what he was expecting.
Yet, even as he racked his brains, delving deep into his memories, he could not find any recollection of this man.
Still, an inexplicable sense of familiarity flowed within Yang Fei's heart.
His lips trembled, and he finally blurted out, "Godfather!"
The man laughed heartily and patted Yang Fei on the shoulder.
"Good boy, I knew you wouldn't let me down, you've done well."
