"Who?" Little Fox asked in mild surprise.
Ye Tian looked up into the distance. Dark clouds rolled across the horizon, and a gray figure came rushing over—it was a monk.
A blackwood staff rested on his shoulder, from which hung an enormous bronze bell. With a boom, it landed at the edge of Qing Qiu Mountain's basin, its resonant chime spreading through the wilds. The man wore gray robes and had kind brows and gentle eyes, precept scars atop his head, regular features, and appeared to be around forty. Strangely, he held half a roast chicken in his hand. Even after landing, he did not forget to wolf it down, swallowing it in a few bites with an appetite that was rather infectious to watch.
"I say, old demon hag, they say nothing should happen more than three times. You've reincarnated eight times already, yet you still refuse to repent. And here you are, thick-skinned enough to settle some bullshit mortal ties. You're just reluctant to leave behind the splendor of the mortal world. Someone like you shouldn't cultivate the Dao—oh, right, a demon like you shouldn't cultivate the Dao. And you still dream of becoming immortal? Keep dreaming your spring-and-autumn dream!" After speaking, the monk lifted the bronze bell and brought it crashing down over Little Fox's head, without the slightest sign of holding back.
If that blow landed solidly, the Nine-tailed Demon Fox would likely become a pile of nine-tailed minced meat at once. Ye Tian quietly withdrew to one side and watched the two fight. Yet the sudden appearance of this monk also stirred some speculation in him. What kind of world was this? Could this be another First Heaven?
Little Fox, however, wore a charming smile. Her slender jade finger lightly flicked the bronze bell, and