For two days, Helian Yu was suffering in the process of absorbing powerful skills to break through the bottleneck. The only time he fell asleep, he had a dream.
He dreamed of himself many years ago, when he was still a young man full of vigor and vitality. Deep down, he looked down on everyone, but on the surface he appeared to be gentle, courteous, frugal and modest. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he even felt disgusted with himself.
The man in white clothes and black hair was practicing swordplay under a tree. The dead leaves flying in the sky became more and more numerous and thinner under his sword. They were all split into two, two into four, and when they fell to the ground, they were no different from needles, without exception.
Hearing the noise, Mu Qingshang blew off the last leaf on the blade, put away the sword and turned around. The cold silver mask blocked the expression on his face, but his voice was very gentle: "Are you back?"
He took off the mask, and the moonlight seemed to be absorbed by his face. A small cinnabar mole under the right corner of his eye shone brightly, making his appearance awe-inspiring.
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