For thousands of years, the twelve-line war god who had been alone suddenly became a disciple shamelessly. He became a master for the first time, and he didn't know what others were like.
In short, he was very pleased that his disciple was beautiful, skilled in swordsmanship, and virtuous enough. He was just a piece of polished jade, no need for artificial processing, and the only bad problem that caused headaches...
"Master, when will you marry me?" You see, he's here again, nagging in my ears every few days.
Intention: growth