"Feng'er, you've grown up."
The figure of light and shadow, Ling Feng's mother, swayed gently, seeming excited, her tender voice carrying relief and affection, and even a slight hint of choking.
"Mother!"
Ling Feng clenched his fist, gazing at the figure formed by nine-colored light. Thoughts swirled in his mind, as if he had countless questions to ask, but didn't know where to begin.
The concept of a mother had always been thin in his mind.
He even once hated his parents for leaving heartlessly, but later, after understanding the tragic situation of the Heavenly Dao Clan, he began to realize that perhaps leaving was for his own safety.
And at this moment, seeing his mother in an instant, seeing her tears pouring like rain, all hatred, all resentment vanished.
Mother and son simply looked at each other, yet neither knew how to speak.
Perhaps, after twenty years of not seeing each other, mother and son didn't even know what topics they could discuss.
