In the underground hall, the lamplight flickered, and countless coffins were placed haphazardly. In one corner of the hall, Zhang Xiaohua stood quietly, feeling a bit weary, not physically, but mentally.
After glancing at the somewhat messy hall, Zhang Xiaohua came to Little Tangerine's side. At this moment, the underground hall couldn't see the outside time, but Zhang Xiaohua knew that it was not far from midnight, and even if he could take Little Tangerine out now, he would soon fall into a deep sleep. It was the cold winter, and although his body wouldn't be harmed, how could Little Tangerine bear this?
So, Zhang Xiaohua looked around, walked straight to one of the few remaining jade coffins with lids, lifted one, jumped in, replaced the lid, and began to cultivate with his eyes closed.
