One possibility was that she was a remnant of the Wind and Rain Tower, here to seek revenge on her.
The other was the master of the Golden Treasure Pavilion, who had come to see whether the people of the Wind and Rain Tower would cause trouble for the Xuanyuan family.
The Succubus could not guess which kind of person the visitor was, nor did she care.
In any case, whoever it was, she did not want to fight today.
In the blink of an eye, the woman had entered the garden.
She stood there silently, watching the flames still burning on the ground and smelling the lingering stench of blood in the wind. A deep look of disgust appeared on her face.
It was the sort of disgust that seemed to come from not having sensed such an aura for decades.
That aura was the aura of death, of slaughter, of the martial world.
She had stayed away from it for far too long.
So long that she had nearly thought she had forgotten it.
Yet tonight, when that familiar sweetly bloody scent flooded her nostrils once more, she realized that some things were carved into one's bones—impossible to forget, impossible to escape.
She should not have come here.
But she had come anyway.
Hearing the Succubus muttering to herself, the woman could not help but speak.
Her voice was calm, so calm that it did not carry the slightest ripple, as though she were discussing something utterly insignificant:
"I'm not the person you're looking for."
After a pause, she asked in return, "Who are you?"
Judging by the time, Ye Honglian should have been at home trying on her wedding dress.
She probably could not have imagined that her mother, Tu Xiuyun—
a woman who had ignored