An exquisite pink purse was caught in his palm, and it was taken out from a hidden pocket on the side of his lapel.
"Why is it with you?" The old Daoist was a little surprised. He reached out and took the pouch.
"I don't remember giving it to you."
When he was on the Ox-cart, he had confirmed that this item might be the root of the disaster that the old coachman had brought. In order to prevent others from being implicated, the old Daoist clearly remembered that he had deliberately placed this item in his own pocket.
He would never hand over such an inauspicious item to his disciple, in case it brought him great trouble.
"When did you bring it over?"
The old Daoist thought that song Changqing had taken it when he was unprepared and found an opportunity to sneak it away. He could not help but feel a little angry.
"I didn't take it." Song Changqing denied it immediately, "
"I don't know how it ended up here." Facing the old Daoist's scolding, he felt wronged.
