Yue Shichan’s clothes were as white as snow, and she had an ancient sword strapped to her back. A piece of red string held her flowing black hair in a casual ponytail, and she had a yellow-skinned gourd hanging from her waist.

Beneath the fiery light of dusk, she looked like a painting of a pure immortal beauty.

Su Yi slumped lazily in his wicker chair, looked her up and down, then pointed to a stone bench. “Sit.”

Yue Shichan casually took a seat. The setting sun illuminated her slender, delicate figure, its radiance like clothes woven out of gentle, misty light.

“Fellow Daoist, you already stand at the pinnacle of the Great Zhou’s cultivation world. You’re already practically invincible throughout the nation. What do you plan to do going forward?” Yue Shichan parted her pink lips to speak. Her voice was gentle, clear, and pleasing.

“Invincible?” Su Yi laughed. “I’m only a Xiantian Martial Ancestor. How could I call myself invincible? As for my plans… I currently don’t have any.”

Yue Shichan smiled faintly. “You’re too modest. The way I see it, only another heaven-defying, miraculous genius or a Spirit Dao advanced cultivator can threaten you...