Li Yuanjiao rode the wind through the northern foothills of Da Li Mountain, his feet skimming over mountains and clouds of mist that swept by. The Mysterious Pattern Spiritual Mist sprang forth from within the Mysterious Pattern Bottle, and he traveled with his hands behind his back, his expression as serene as still water.
'Xijun should be able to handle it... The old man is stubborn, but after all, he is getting on in years, and his vigor isn't what it used to be. With a bit of subtlety, it's possible to deceive him.'
Li Yuanjiao's face was somber, as he had always been somewhat dissatisfied with Li Xuanxuan's reckless behavior.
'Insisting on dragging things out...'
Suddenly, Li Yuanjiao remembered a time when he was young, sitting alone with his mother, Mu Yalu, in the courtyard. Mu Yalu was still young then, her hair cascading freely as she spoke softly:
