He couldn't show himself.
Wang Jixuan reminded himself of that as he stood with his hands behind his back atop a watchtower at the edge of the military camp. Using an art to conceal his form, he watched the figure behind the transport plane's window from up close.
Ling Tong was resting against the window.
After nearly two months of nonstop work, she looked somewhat exhausted now.
They truly had not seen each other in a long time.
Although Wang Jixuan could hear news about Ling Tong whenever he wished, and could even watch the first-person mech footage of her in battle.
A faint emotion still lingered around his heart.
It was not particularly intense. They were not the kind of couple who loved each other to death; perhaps simply seeing her was enough to settle his heart.
Daoist Wang did not send a transmission to disturb her. He gathered wisps of dust with his spiritual awareness and wrote a line of small characters on the seatback before her. After thinking it over, he felt it might disrupt her state of mind, so he erased it again.
After much deliberation, the Daoist decided not to do anything.
He truly missed her soft embrace and sweet lips.
Desire.
Affection.
The mortal world.
In a daze, Wang Jixuan saw scene after scene. Ling Tong suddenly changed into an Immortal Dress and danced gracefully within Guanghan Palace, while he became a skeleton sitting silently beneath a tree, lost in thought.
Wang Jixuan shook his head sharply, driving the images from his mind. He lowered his head and coughed a few times, and the circulation of mana within him became somewhat sluggish.
His mind slightly unsettled, the Daoist looked at Ling Tong a few more times before turning and riding his sword back to