A Last-Minute Scam on Uncle Prison?

Saint Ye lifted his head in inscrutable profundity, looking at the starry vault overhead. The soul hidden within the Spiritual Lotus Root seemed to gaze straight into the heavens, trying to see through something in that mass of star signs.

"There's no need to prioritize it too much either. That boy's life is tough; he won't die that easily. Do you know why, when he runs into trouble, he comes to ask me first instead of asking you?"

Saint Ye turned back and said.

Meng Yutong froze for a moment, then asked suspiciously, "Because you come from the Upper Realm, and your knowledge and eye are higher than mine?"

"No. Those are all empty things. That bit of knowledge of yours is enough. He's willing to ask me simply because he feels less pressure. I've never forced him to reach any goal, and whatever ideas he has, he can speak of them openly with us.

"When something happens, I also trust his ability very much. Take now, for example. I believe he's still alive, while you are filled from head to toe with dejection."

"If he appears before you alive and well, this old man hopes you can remain calm and talk with him peacefully. The relationship between you master and disciple was pierced through long ago. He is young and doesn't know better, but you should know better."

After leaving these few words behind, Saint Ye swayed his head and walked elsewhere.

And yet, after he had gone less than ten meters, he turned back again, walked up to Meng Yutong, and abruptly snatched back the bamboo straw.

"I almost forgot. Without this... I can't drink wine."

"..."

If he is safe and sound, then even if I...

"Master!"

Meng Yutong followed the voice with her eyes and squeezed