One palm governs the nation, one palm governs the sect. What need is there for Prince Qing and the Prime Minister?
Yan Fangbai showed a look of admiration and immediately went to take care of it.
In the distant horizon, the snowy land was like a white carpet, but there was a gap where steaming heat was rising.
Li Xuan was sitting cross-legged, chewing on roasted meat handed over by the "Bald Tough Guy."
After careful consideration, he chose the "Bald Tough Guy" as the form for his everyday illusion, to avoid getting caught up in inexplicable absurdities.
He squinted at the Prime Minister's residence in the distance; whatever the Prime Minister could think of, he could too.
Li Xuan then turned his gaze northward.
The demons in Shannan were indeed gone; he would have to find time to take a stroll around the northern area.
After finishing the roasted meat, he dusted off his hands and retrieved the sacrificial paper and brush from Xinci Temple.
He hadn't been idle these days.
