Zhang Yang stood on the terrace of the manor, gazing at the distant rolling mountains, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the half piece of jade pendant in his pocket.
"What are you thinking about?" Li Lei came over with a cup of hot milk, wrapped in Zhang Yang's coat.
Li Lei's cheeks were tinged with an unusual blush, making her even more charming.
Zhang Yang took the milk, coming back to his senses, and said, "Thinking about the main altar of the Qingyi Sect."
Zhang Yang turned around, his gaze landing on Li Lei's slightly swollen lips, which were marks left from last night.
Li Lei followed his gaze down, her cheeks flushed: "Don't tease."
As she spoke, she lightly pushed Zhang Yang, then worriedly looked at him. These days, they finally understood the dangers Zhang Yang was facing.
"Seriously, are you sure you want to take so many people? Uncle Long said the main altar of the Qingyi Sect is underground in an abandoned factory, filled with traps."
