Cang Hao felt that he was definitely the most unjust time traveler in history. He was just following the sect team to make up the numbers in the secret realm and rowing in the water. Unexpectedly, the goddess in the dreams of thousands of monks in the world of cultivation - Leng Nianling, the saint of the Glazed Sword Sect, would walk straight in front of him.
In the deathly silence, she stretched out her slender jade fingers and pointed at his chest, her cold voice carrying a subtle tremor: "This sword mark was left for me, right?"
Cang Hao looked down at his clothes that were accidentally cut by a branch yesterday, and his heart collapsed: "Holy girl, please listen to my explanation, this is really just..."
"No need to say it." Leng Nianling interrupted him, his eyes gentle but firm, "I know, you are back."
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