Yang Jing still felt uneasy, so he didn't leave right away. He wandered over to the willow tree in front of Sun Ningxiang's courtyard, found a flat stone, and sat down to wait in silence.
From time to time, disciples from Yunxi Peak would pass by on the mountain path. When they saw Yang Jing sitting there, they looked surprised and couldn't help stealing a few glances at him.
Yang Jing paid them no mind. He leaned against the tree trunk, his gaze fixed on the closed courtyard gate, pondering where Sun Ningxiang might have gone.
The wind rustled through the leaves as time trickled by.
The sky gradually darkened. The lingering glow of the sunset dyed half the sky red, bathing the mountains of Yunxi Peak in a layer of warm gold.
Yang Jing waited for a little over an hour before he finally saw a familiar figure appear at the end of the mountain path.
It was none other than Sun Ningxiang.
