Song Changsheng never expected to be used as someone's shield, and a passive one at that.
"This Fellow Daoist looks unfamiliar. I wonder, which senior's esteemed disciple might you be?" a strikingly handsome man asked with a chuckle as he walked up.
The man was truly stunning, dressed in a white, crescent-embroidered robe. He was slender, with features as picturesque as a painting, and carried an air of nobility.
If not for his chest being as flat as a board and the presence of an Adam's apple, Song Changsheng would have suspected he was a woman in disguise.
Of course, disguising one's gender was a simple matter in this world. The main reason Song Changsheng was certain he was male was the fiery look in his eyes when he glanced at Zhuang Yuechan. It was the look of raw desire.
