Lin Changheng's expression was grim as he watched Ye Qingwu prostrate herself in submission. He gave no reaction.
Time slowly trickled by, yet there was still no response…
To the side, Mo Zhaoli quietly watched the scene unfold. Her beautiful eyes were fixed on Lin Changheng, her adoration for him on full display—an expression unchanged from eighty years prior.
As for Ye Qingwu, still prostrate on the ground, every second felt like an eternity. Her new Master, she thought, was truly cold to the bone, his mind profound and unfathomable.
Her mind raced, desperately trying to discern his true intentions.
She was terrified that a single wrong guess would spell her doom, instantly wiping away a century of her hard-earned Cultivation.
This was an outcome she could not accept.
'I have to live!'
This became her most fundamental thought and the driving force behind her submission.
