Yuan Ling Crown hadn't yet finished speaking when Mo Rancun cut him off.
"I know—you'll definitely give me a reasonable explanation."
"Old Mo, are you knocking me for something?" Yuan Ling Crown raised his eyebrows, sounding a little displeased.
Drifting between night and day, does one belong to darkness or to light? Sometimes, even he can't tell himself.
People like him, after all these years, neither the night nor the day wishes to accept them at all.
"It's just a well-intentioned reminder."
"The path woven from black nights and bright days—is always the hardest to see and the easiest to stray from," Mo Rancun said quietly.
"Human Xiao cannot die—at least, not yet..." Yuan Ling Crown let the matter drop and offered his own explanation.
"He hasn't fully matured; alive, he doesn't affect much—but the moment he dies, Li Cunsi's thread is cut."
At these words, a contemplative look passed across Mo Rancun's face.
