"I'm atoning." Shen Lang slowly closed her eyes, a trace of weariness in her expression. The system desperately wanted to know what for, but she didn't say, simply drifting off to sleep and ignoring it.
…
Liuxian Peak had no seasons.
And Lengming Hall, true to its name, was cold and bright.
Shen Lang idly spent a year in the hall. During that time, Immortal Venerable Changfan rarely returned, not even spending a single night in his own bedchambers.
After a while, she grew restless and would often slip out of the hall to explore, eventually covering nearly every inch of Liuxian Peak.
She would converse with the sentient flowers and trees, listening to them chatter away about the events of the past year:
For instance, how so-and-so had been forcefully kissed by someone, and was now hunting that person to the ends of the earth;
Or how some young disciple had set fire to his master's meticulously groomed beard and was nearly expelled from the sect by his infuriated master;
