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... the resentment is surging.
Like Tao Qian, tens of thousands of monks and demons all focused on the man on the golden boat.
All I could see was a young male cultivator in his thirties or forties, tall and thin, with clear bones, dressed in blue clothes, wearing a Confucian square scarf, and a pair of eyes like a sly fox, whoever looked at him. Looking at the face of this man, and looking at what he did, he would shout angrily: What a vicious scribe.
Just like Qin Wuxiang, ano ...
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