The night breeze brought warmth, and Fan Wubing stood up and stretched his body, feeling an incomparable sense of comfort after so long.
The feeling of home is something that can never be replaced.
The moment he stepped out of the room, an excited and lively voice immediately sounded in his ears,
"Master!"
Fan Wubing was startled and looked forward, Xiaohong was gazing at him as if looking at a star.
The excessively fervent gaze made him feel like he was completely seen through, as if he was not wearing any clothes.
At this moment, as he scrutinized her again, Fan Wubing was surprised to find that there was no trace of cultivation on her at all. It wasn't to say she was entirely mortal, but rather that she lacked the aura of a Cultivator as he remembered.
Fan Wubing shook his head, "I'm not your master."
"Is it because I haven't given the ceremonial gift?" Xiaohong said, using her clothing to wipe her hands, then took out a box from her arms, "This!"
