After dinner, Ning Xiaoxian returned to God Demon Prison and refined a large quantity of medicines. Time passed swiftly, and in a blink, it was already close to midnight.
The once noisy campsite had returned to tranquility. She stepped out of her carriage, and the surroundings were empty and silent, with only the shadows of trees swaying in the wind, resembling ghosts. She looked around and then walked toward an old tree next to the camp, and under the shade where the moonlight couldn't reach, a person sat in silence.
Though the timing wasn't right, the scene somewhat echoed the feeling of "The moon rises above the willow treetops; a rendezvous after the twilight fades." Yet, neither of the individuals present had such thoughts.
Her senses were sharp. The whistle quietly nodded his head, unaware that it was the doing of another. No matter how well he hid, he couldn't escape Changtian's eyes.
