Halfway back, Wen Ning suddenly remembered something.
He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then rolled up his right sleeve.
The Phoenix-Wing Gilt Trident tattoo on his arm looked so cool.
He stared at it for two seconds, then couldn't resist reaching out to poke it again.
Before his fingertip touched his skin, a faint golden light flashed across the tattoo, carrying an unmistakable warning.
Wen Ning sensibly withdrew his finger and chuckled.
"All right, no poking, no poking."
He lowered his sleeve and continued on his way.
After a few steps, he couldn't help rolling it up to look again.
He kept fiddling with his sleeve as he walked, and the clouds and mist gradually thinned.
Wen Ning returned to the mortal world.
He strode toward his shop.
The door was open. Before he even entered, he heard clattering from inside, as though someone was moving things around.
Wen Ning stepped over the threshold and immediately spotted Lu Ming bent over, his rear sticking out as he organized the shelves and muttered to himself.
"Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine... huh?"
Hearing footsteps, Lu Ming glanced back, and his eyes lit up.
He put down what he was holding and circled Wen Ning, his face full of anxious concern.
"Wen Ning, you're back! How did it go? The Heavenly Venerable didn't give you any trouble, did he? I thought you might not make it back!"
Wen Ning rolled his eyes, straightened his back, and put on an affected tone.
"What are you talking about, hmm?"
He deliberately raised his pitch at the end.
"My godfather and I have an unbreakable bond. Why would he give me trouble? You have no idea—he can't dote on me enough. He's the very picture of kindness."
Wen Ning didn't notice Lu Ming's expression.