Humans were not grass and trees; who could be without feeling?
Though Lin Xuan had gone through much on his journey, he had also experienced many entanglements of the heart—joy, frustration, bone-deep longing, and the helplessness of being separated by the ends of heaven and earth.
In short, the sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy—all the shocks that emotion could bring—he had tasted them one by one.
Perhaps it was precisely because of this that, when Lin Xuan faced a brand-new feeling, he instead seemed timid and hesitant, burdened with all sorts of concerns.
Yet it was not that the goddess had feelings while King Xiang did not. He merely worried that Xiang'er was young, and that everything she did was nothing more than a moment of hot-blooded impulse.
Lin Xuan's worries were simply unnecessary. Xiang'er had used real action to show her understanding and interpretation of love. Lin Xuan had witnessed it with his own eyes; when Xiang'er charged toward Taowu without looking back, even he felt shaken to the utmost.
Faced with such a devoted woman, how could Lin Xuan possibly remain unmoved?
So, the moment Xiang'er looked back, Lin Xuan smiled. His features were very ordinary, yet that smile was filled with endless tenderness:
"Be good, Xiang'er. Cultivate well. One day, I'll go to the Kingdom of Qingqiu to bring you back."
Lin Xuan's words were very restrained, but for lovers whose hearts were linked, what need was there to keep the three words "I love you" on their lips at every moment?
When two hearts were pressed together, a single look, a single movement, was enough to understand each other's feelings. There was no need for too much expression at all. Of course, it was not that Lin Xuan was stingy about saying those three words, but