In the depths of the immense Spiritual Energy River, there is a figure sitting cross-legged.
Like an old monk in meditation, there is no expression on his face—he is Xiang Liu, the lone survivor of the Xiang Liu family that once fled overseas years ago.
His hands and feet are still bound by chains from the Void. Compared to when he was first trapped here months ago, he has obviously settled down, no longer roaring daily.
Xiang Liu's purple eyebrows moved slightly at this moment, and he slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze was dim, a trace of confusion flashed in his eyes, then it became calm.
He gently sighed, yet frowned, and began to murmur to himself, "This daily wash from the pure Spiritual Energy has made my demonic power undergo a miraculous transformation, and my State of Mind has become more peaceful each day. Things I used to see now seem like a lifetime ago; eventually, the resentment in my heart might really be washed away."
"But this is not my wish!"
