Wang Ping set down his fishing rod and gazed at the brilliant, captivating starlight in the sky. He took out the divination blocks he carried and cast a reading.
A Holy Trigram.
A glint flashed in Wang Ping's eyes. Normally, a Holy Trigram meant no further divination was necessary, but at this moment, he felt compelled to cast two more.
He cast them.
All of them were Holy Trigrams!
Wang Ping broke into a satisfied smile. Yu Lian, who had been watching him perform the divination the whole time, also relaxed considerably.
Inside the main hall of the Dao Field, the Demon Race bloodline within Hu Qianqian's body drew in the power of the starlight. Her spiritual consciousness vanished in an instant, leaving her awareness hazy. She saw countless strange, scattered fragments float through her mind.
