In the following days, Yang Zhenshan paid visits to some good friends in the Capital City.
He made a trip to Sanshan Valley, not only to see An Yuxing, but also to visit Zhang Ye and Granny Meng.
Zhang Ye was nearly 140 years old, his entire being looked exceptionally aged, with hair white and withered, face crisscrossed with wrinkles, and eyes that had become much cloudier.
Indeed, nearing the end of his years!
Even Innate Martial Artists cannot withstand the ravages of time, eventually growing old.
In the courtyard of Zhang Ye's residence, the two sat under the eaves drinking tea.
"What level has your understanding of Taoist Intent reached?" Zhang Ye asked softly.
Yang Zhenshan shook his head slightly, "Still far off, I feel like I've touched upon something, but it's elusive."
He had mastered control over his Thunderbolt Strike, but he still had no precise understanding of the Taoist Intent that underlies it.
