After Sang Que fed the donkey and left, Yan Daozi finally withdrew his gaze, took the letter paper from earlier to the candle, and burned it.
He sat down and absentmindedly tapped the table; if this girl wasn't deeply scheming and adept at disguise, she might really not be the daughter of the temple priest that group was looking for.
But even if there was a tiny possibility, he had to consider it. Such a good seedling; it would be a shame to let her go.
Wait a minute...
Yan Daozi's tapping fingers paused, and his mind suddenly turned a corner.
Previously, he worried that if this girl was indeed the temple priest's daughter that group was searching for, once handed over, all his diligent nurturing would be in vain.
But if there truly was a strong bond between master and disciple, could he not rise through her elevation? That group had specifically instructed that she be kept alive, not to be gravely injured; this was not how one treated an enemy.
