Another slant of sun set.
The ocean was shimmering with waves, and on an island, Fang Wang lay on the rocks, his mask over his face, seemingly asleep.
Fang Jing sat by the fire, with Xiao Zi beside him, flicking her tongue out while eyeing two fish roasting on the fire, while Zhao Zhen squatted nearby, examining a pile of storage bags—these were all of the relatively lower grade.
The storage bags and storage rings from the Golden Body Realm, the Mahayana Realm, and the Nirvana Realm were all on Fang Wang's person, to avoid any traps that could potentially scare the soul out of Zhao Zhen in fright.
Fang Jing turned his head to look at Fang Wang, his eyes filled with worry, and he asked in a low voice, "Could Uncle have been injured?"
Though he was young, his experiences far surpassed those of his peers, and with his uncle having fought for so long, he worried that Uncle was not as relaxed as he appeared on the surface.