Niu Qi couldn't figure out whether his words were meant to provoke Li Jing intentionally or to persuade him to realize his mistakes and turn back.
Putting on an act of nonchalance, Niu Qi whistled and, putting his hands behind his head like a pillow, hopped backward off the cloud platform.
Li Jing, however, seemed stunned, his lips trembling slightly as he sat on the cloud platform, gazing at the small courtyard of the Liuyun Hall.
In his vision, the world seemed to lose all its color, the courtyard transforming into an ink painting.
The young Daoist sat at the deepest part of the picture, with a smile on his lips, a natural demeanor, his long hair gently swaying with the breeze, his green robe's sleeves and hem wavering slightly.
Li Jing sat like this for several days and nights.
A glimmer of immortal light appeared in his gaze.
