"Master, I'm on the first floor."
Sword Fanatic heard Ye Xiu's shout and responded.
Ye Xiu staggered to the staircase, and as he descended, he saw an extraordinary old man standing in the living room.
His expression immediately tightened, and he asked:
"Are you Sword Fanatic?"
"Master, it's me, Sword Fanatic." Sword Fanatic replied cheerfully.
Ye Xiu was taken aback; previously, Sword Fanatic had been filthy, in tattered clothes, with long, messy hair.
But now, Sword Fanatic was clean and neat, meticulously dressed, and his long hair had been cut short.
"Why did you make yourself like this?" Ye Xiu asked.
"Studying Sword Dao is an incredibly sacred thing. One must bathe and change clothes, treating it with the utmost reverence."
Sword Fanatic replied with utmost seriousness and solemnity.
Ye Xiu was filled with awe. Sword Fanatic's spirit of pursuing the sword and his respectful attitude toward it were truly admirable.
"Master, what's wrong with you?"
