A gentle breeze, like a sigh, swept through the luxurious garden.
Xie Qing sat under a tree, his eyes tightly closed, and his breathing even and slightly weak, as if he had fallen asleep.
Sitting under the apple tree, with his white robe and in conjunction with the surrounding scenery, he looked more beautiful than the immortals themselves.
Suddenly, as if stirred by the wind, one of the apple tree's leaves detached from its branch and began to descend towards Xie Qing's head, spinning as it fell.
But in the moment when the leaf was just ten centimeters from his head...
Swoosh!
A sudden sharp gust of wind burst from his body, shredding the leaf into a thousand pieces!
However, Xie Qing remained immersed in his cultivation and showed no reaction.
