The night was as black as ink, the moonlight like frost.
On the mountain peak, Chen Sheng stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at Daoist Fuhai's retreating figure.
His expression was devoid of joy or sorrow, but a profound depth settled in his eyes.
"Are you truly going to ally with this person?"
A clear, cold voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
Chen Sheng did not turn around.
Dressed in a simple Daoist Robe, Nie Xiangjun stepped out of the void, her sleeves fluttering in the wind.
The moonlight fell upon her refined features, casting an otherworldly aura as if she were untouched by the mortal world.
She walked to Chen Sheng's side and also looked in the direction where Daoist Fuhai had disappeared, her brow furrowed with solemnity.
"The Vast Sea Sect has tried to kill me time and again. How can I be expected to tolerate it every time?"
Chen Sheng chuckled, but the mirth did not reach his eyes.
Beneath that smile lay a chilling coldness.
