Ruined walls and broken battlements, green moss over dark dust.
Within the dilapidated remains, a deep but not overly thick scent of mold penetrated to the heart.
However, this paled in comparison to the sight of a beautiful young girl, her gaze soft and contemplative, her words filled with admiration.
Of course, that was the perspective of mortals.
Fu Qian glanced ahead and spotted Jian Jingzheng and a Ms. Chang, an Academy Instructor, looking back at him with an unmistakably nervous demeanor.
It was only natural.
From a normal standpoint, Ji Liushuang's posture was not hard to understand.
For a young person devoted to Sword Dao, with a demigod in close proximity, nervousness and admiration were inevitable.
And in such a situation, whatever he said, Ji Liushuang would likely take his words with high credibility.
