Pei Junhong waved her hand.
Threads of dreams flew out, directly entering Wang Ye's dreams.
After finishing all this, she left with a faint hint of hatred in her eyes.
Her exquisite figure disappeared under the Silver Moon.
The next day, Wang Ye woke up.
He felt an overall sense of fatigue.
Scenes from the dream appeared one by one.
"Strange, why would I have such a dream?"
Wang Ye slightly furrowed his brows.
For someone like him, a practitioner of spiritual cultivation, he should seldom dream.
Because after entering the Chaos Realm, one can control their dreams.
His gaze was like lightning as he looked toward the window.
But he saw nothing.
"Am I sick?"
Wang Ye touched his forehead.
Even though Wang Ye wasn't versed in medicine, he understood a bit about medical principles.
Medical science says that only when phlegm heat disturbs the mind does one have chaotic dreams.
"Looks like I need to nurture my health."
He stood up from the bed.
