In the pavilion.
The Prime Minister's voice was faint, his gaze questioning as he looked towards Mo Ke, observing the ethereal figure whose robes danced in the breeze.
"As far as I know, in order to maintain absolute calm in their hearts and to peer into the future through the black mists, the Celestial Planners had long since eradicated desires of love. The State Preceptor has been scheming in the capital for so long, would you really risk plunging yourself into an abyss for a Demon Lord? Is it truly worth it?"
The autumn wind whistled, and the atmosphere gradually solidified.
The figure of the Prime Minister looked especially desolate.
