Su Miao's impression of Jieyin had once been that he was solemn, compassionate, gentle, and difficult to approach.
When he preached at Kunlun, he sat upon the high platform, Golden Light surrounding him like a Buddha statue, making people dare only to admire him from afar and not approach.
But over these three years, the faint barrier between Jieyin and Su Miao had gradually melted away during this adventure.
Su Miao discovered that Jieyin was not actually so cold.
There had always been a distance between them before. He had been courteous, polite, and considerate, but that consideration carried a sense of restraint, as though they were separated by a thin veil.
Now, that veil was gone.
He would take the initiative to offer her Spirit Fruit, silently spread a patch of Buddha Light for her to rest in when she was tired, and be the first to act whenever she encountered trouble.
Whenever she complained about the unpleasant smell, he would use Spiritual Qi to disperse the rotten stench around her.
Sometimes, he would even pick up Zhunti's cue and join him in putting on a double act.
After a while, Su Miao began to feel that martial uncle Jieyin did not seem so hard to approach after all. Maybe Zhunti had led him astray?
After all, spending every day with Zhunti made it hard to remain completely humorless.
As for anything else, she did not think too deeply about it.
The journey was long, and the three traveled along the edge of the ruins.
Su Miao walked in the middle, Zhunti on the left, and Jieyin on the right.
They encountered danger several times along the way, and Su Miao's coordination with the two of them grew increasingly seamless.
With a single look, Zhunti knew which direction she