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Li Xiangping sat quietly by the fire which illuminated his face with a golden-red sheen. His clothes were worn and torn, and he seemed utterly exhausted.
The ends of his leg hair were curling up from the heat of the flame, but yet, his gaze remained laser-focused on the yams roasting in the fire pit.
He had been fleeing from danger to danger these days and had narrowly escaped death at the hands of Qi Cultivators multiple times now. He has already grown accustomed to deaths having killed countless Mount Yue’s generals, and having experienced rallying people to assault Great Jueting.
Li Xiangping’s demeanor had changed from that of a privileged courtyard dweller to that of a rugged man. The blood and flames of the multitude of battles have toughened him up, gradually turning him into another Jianixi.
“Great King! Mu Jiaoman has gone to Mount Wu… and no one knows what his intentions are!”
Instead of correcting his way of addressing Li Xiangping, Ahuici, and his men even...
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