“Fellow Daoist Xin Yun!”
There he goes again, that self-satisfied piece of trash. Heh…
A blaze shot straight up in Wen Jiayin’s chest. You really shouldn’t test the temper of a single-spirit-root fire cultivator. As long as you didn’t step on Wen Jiayin’s bottom line, she was a total sweetheart—soft and squishy, even willing to play cute with you.
But if you were like a certain someone who spent all day ogling her Master, that was basically jumping up and down on her already taut nerves.
“Whew!”
Zhi Chang’an hurriedly blew at the top of Wen Jiayin’s head. When...
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