A few days later.

On a mountain peak, Xueyang stood in front of a cliff with his negative hand. The wounds and burnt hair that had been beaten by the Red Moon God King had recovered as before. A gust of wind blew up his long snow-white hair, which had an unspeakable chic taste.

There is a pavilion on this mountain peak.

Song Yan personally handed the brewed fragrant tea to the King of Silver Wing and the King of Red Moon respectively, and then poured himself another cup, forgetting only the other person in the pavilion.

Sikong Mingyue was very dissatisfied with this and looked at Song Inkstone and...