On the way back, the spring rain no longer scattered. The setting sun in the sky ran in the wind, and the light secretly shone from behind, casting a layer of golden light on the long way back to Lin'an.
In the luxurious carriage, Lin Zhuifeng chattered non-stop, venting the shock and excitement in his heart.
Lin Qingyin, on the other hand, sat quietly inside. She pursed her lips and listened, smiling from time to time.
An Le sat upright with the bamboo sword Green Mountain at his waist. The Ink Pool Sword was placed horizontally on his leg, and he was very calm. If outsiders saw him, they would think that the genius who had won the favor of the Mountain Lord and the Little Sacred Token was Lin Zhuifeng, who was swinging a fire stick and was so excited that he could not control himself.
At the peak southwest of the setting sun, the rays of the sun shone for a thousand miles.
