"Is there really no problem?"
Gazing at the trail left by the cat fur, Luojia asked with a worried face.
"There's no problem," An Su assured seriously, "A cat's reflexes are seven times that of its fur, and if she feels uncomfortable, she'll leave on her own."
What kind of crooked logic is that... Luojia couldn't argue with An Su and rolled her eyes attractively at him.
They followed the direction of the departing cat fur, passing through several alleys and taking two turns, then arrived at a sequestered alley that looked long-deserted,
At the end of the alley stood a huge Chinese parasol tree, its ancient green branches piercing through the courtyard wall and slanting across the sky, dense leaves casting layers of shadow, blocking the frost-like moonlight.
This was the den of the Chaotic Saintess.
