Treasure That Guards the Sect

Xiao Meng clasped her hands to Yunxi, then turned into a pink crystal and returned to her master's brow. Only then did Yunxi sweep her sleeve and open the restriction.

The moment the door opened, Yunxi saw Han Yang, still dressed in his flamboyant style. This time, he wore a violet-blue robe, fanned himself with a folding fan, and said with a smiling face:

"Fellow Daoist Murong, sorry to have kept you waiting. I was delayed on the way here. Please don't blame me!"

Yunxi kept a cold face and said nothing, merely making a gesture of invitation.

After Han Yang took his seat, the room's restriction descended once more. Han Yang picked up the flower tea before him and drained it in one gulp before looking Yunxi over and asking quietly:

"Did you change your face too, to lie low?"

Yunxi dropped the aloof expression from her face and said:

"Couldn't be helped. The evil cultivators were pressing too hard. They failed every time they confronted me head-on, and whenever they tried to stab me in the dark, I followed the trail and ruined their schemes. Now they've reached the point of forcibly pinning black pots on me."

At that, Han Yang's affectionate eyes filled with amusement, and he immediately asked:

"Did the evil cultivators attack you too when you were at the Heavenly Demon Palace?"

Yunxi shot him a sidelong glance.

"Why do I hear a little gloating in your voice?"

Han Yang immediately put away his desire to watch the spectacle and waved his hand.

"No, I just wanted to find out some useful information."

"There is some."

"Quick, let me hear it."

Yunxi briefly recounted what had happened after the two parted ways and her experiences at the Heavenly Demon Palace. Han Yang clicked his tongue