The young woman appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen, dressed in an azure, round-collared robe embroidered with a pheasant motif.
It was a dignified, formal set of robes, but on her, with her delicate, lovely features and slender frame, it looked comically endearing—like a little girl who had sneaked into her mother's closet.
Even when the young woman tightened her expression, trying her best to look stern, she couldn't quite pull it off.
Jiang Yi froze. 'Where did this "female ghost" pop out from?'
Here in Fengdu, mortals weren't welcome. On this majestic Eighteen-Layered High Platform, he should be the only living soul; all others were supposed to be ghosts.
"You... I... He!"
The plump girl's mouth opened and closed, stammering, before her face suddenly lit up as if she'd run into an old friend. She clapped her hands in excitement.
"Oh, it's Xiaoqiao from the Profound City Central Palace! My, it's been a while! You're looking more graceful than ever!"
