Jia Xiantian's goals have always been clear: defy his master and ancestors, kill his fellow disciples. Ahem, of course, these masters, ancestors, and fellow disciples are people who deserve to be killed.
When Jia Xiantian came to find Yun Xiaoran, Qinghe thought for a moment and followed along.
It would be best to find a way to let them move freely in the Immortal Lands. Staying here forever isn't an option, but going back just like that feels a bit unsatisfying. After all, this is such a mysterious place; you can't just leave without gaining something.
Walk around, see the sights, lift your mood, and maybe new ideas will pop up.
As Qinghe was thinking this, she unconsciously muttered it out loud.
Weisheng Yueren looked at her wasting her brain cells with her chin propped up and couldn't help but laugh, reminding her, "Mask."
Qinghe's brain hadn't caught up yet. Hearing the voice, she looked at him blankly, "Mask? What mask?"
