The nine-tailed fire fox from Qingqiu came down to earth to practice in order to ascend to immortality, and Yue Xingxing met him by chance. Wearing a silver-gray white robe that covered the floor, with a waterfall of black hair, the man's white mask had blood-red spells painted on it, and his whole body was shrouded in fireflies and moonlight, as if he could emit light himself. I don't know when the sound of the piano stopped. The sparse sounds were getting closer and closer, and a voice came from her ears. It was the voice of a young man who was so quiet and warm that it could make your heart turn into a pool of spring water. "You will catch a cold if you sleep here." But she ignored the demon boy who was silently accompanying her behind her. His lips were very red, as full as petals, and too vermilion to be ignored, but as always, they gave people a cold visual sense. This man in his early twenties was so paradoxically beautiful, perfectly blending coldness and coquettishness, like a blood-red demon lotus blooming in the pure water of a Buddhist pond.