The carriage for the farewell finally stopped at the foot of Moss Ridge.
Due to Jiang Qihu instructing Iron Eyes to slow down, by the time they arrived, the delegation from Fan Yin Temple had already been resting and waiting at the foothill.
This journey to the West, although grandiose,
the number of monks sent by the Fan Yin Temple was not large, only about thirty or forty people, less than ten carriages, along with several carriages of sutras.
"To send off a friend a thousand miles is eventually to part."
Jiang Qihu spoke softly, "I will not accompany you any further on the road ahead."
"Mr. Jiang, it's just a diplomatic mission."
Xie Xuanyi smiled and shook his head, saying, "Don't worry about my safety. It's you, with many ghosts and spirits in the South Border, who should take good care of yourself. It won't be long before we meet again."
"...Indeed."
Jiang Qihu nodded.
He knew.
It was just a diplomatic mission.
