Everyone said that Sect Master Yun of the Xuanzhen Sect was just a sick puppet left by the previous sect master and could not live to be twenty years old.
She was happy to show off, drink tea and enjoy the snow, allowing her elders to bully her and her juniors to seize power.
Only Gu Yan, the young master of Tingxue Tower, insisted on protecting her as a paranoid patron saint.
Until the traitors join forces with foreign enemies, and the sword points directly at the sect——
Yun Wuyi sighed softly next to Gu Yan's blood-stained body.
The puppet thread in the sleeve moved slightly, and the corpse that had been sleeping for a hundred years broke out of the ground.
"Have you had enough fun?" She asked in a low voice, a tired smile appearing on her lips that had not faded from her illness.
"It's my turn."
