The white mist floats in the sky, dreamy and illusionary, with a floral fragrance, and colorful clouds drifting within it.
The more beautiful something is, the more bizarre it becomes.
Su Changxing stared at the hunched figure of Hu Huai'an not far in the white mist, following at a distance neither too far nor too close, silent, showing no signs of attack, just quietly tracking him like a hunter observing its prey.
Such situations can be terrifying, and Hu Huai'an felt uneasy, always thinking Su Changxing could attack at any moment, yet rationally understanding that Su Changxing couldn't attack him because of the Heavenly Dao's restrictions—no one can escape these boundaries.
"Why are you following me? If you want to fight, just fight!" Hu Huai'an couldn't take it anymore, stopped, and shouted at Su Changxing, eyes filled with danger.
