Within the Eastern Province.
At the gates of Misty Mountain, by nightfall.
Night fell.
Chu Yuan gazed upon the large basin of dumplings before him and fell into deep thought.
Souls couldn't eat.
They couldn't even smell.
This troubled Chu Yuan greatly.
As for the one beside him,
Ning Fan was sitting there, tucking in voraciously.
Baize, meanwhile, gazed up at the firmament, apparently lost in thought, a persistent sourness and bitterness shining in his eyes.
Baize felt such bitterness.
And such sourness.
He hadn't successfully mentored a single disciple.
Look at someone named Chu.
He was in such harmony with the heavens and the earth,
that the power of the cosmos actually fused with his body.
Oh, how Baize envied him.
Now, looking at himself,
Heaven and earth hadn't given him the slightest taste of sweetness.
He was in agony.
Baize took a deep breath.
Perhaps it was because his disciple hadn't truly made it yet?
Maybe he should find some new disciples.
