A fire, fanned by the wind, crackled softly.
The surroundings were very quiet, so quiet it felt as if the mountain itself had fallen asleep.
The firelight illuminated the surroundings, and Ye Chen tried playing the flute. It actually made a sound, though he could only produce a few notes.
"You can even do this," Nangong Yan said as she sat beside Ye Chen, swinging her legs.
Ye Chen remembered something from a long time ago. He hadn't known how to fix the flute, and that story started with his trip to Immortal City.
"Let me try it," Nangong Yan said eagerly, snatching it away from him.
The Red Demonic Spirit and the Black Demonic Spirit were on the cliff outside, bouncing around like monkeys.
"The Sacred Spirit Stone is in my hands now, you should be happy about it. Why do you still look so gloomy?" Nangong Yan didn't understand.
"I'm not looking gloomy."
"Look how happy the Black Demonic Spirit is. You're not like him, looking like you'll drop dead at any moment."
