"Are you willing to become the new Lord Qingling?"
The voice was aged, carrying with it an immense depth, coming from above.
Lin Yan looked up to see a bright moon hanging overhead.
Within the moonlight, a figure emerged, petite and hunched over.
That figure slowly walked out from the moon, descending into the world.
"Lord Qingling?"
Upon seeing the elder, Lin Yan's pupils involuntarily constricted.
But the elder came from the moon with a calm demeanor, gently waving his hand, "Lord Qingling has passed away, I am but a wisp of lingering thought, lodged here, quietly waiting for future generations to inherit this Blessed Land."
His form was ethereal as he passed by Lin Yan's side.
Moving forward, he looked at the willow tree.
His eyes seemed to hold a trace of introspection.
"Inside you, to have concealed the true form of that Old God from ancient times, it's utterly unimaginable."
