In the courtyard, the moonlight was as clear and still as accumulated water, crossed by the shadows of pondweed and water lilies, pines and cypresses casting their forms—a stillness like a painted scene.
After a long while, Ancestor Zhao's voice drifted faintly from midair: "Fellow Daoist Yu, if you must blame someone, blame yourself for being too young and too exceptional."
Yu Xian held back for a long moment before letting out a cold laugh.
Chapter 121