He reached out his claw to touch the air, finding some red mist beads stuck to his fur, and smelled it.
"Ugh, it stinks, Yuyu, this seems like corpse blood...
And there's a sound."
What kind of sound? As soon as Qin Yu heard a slight noise, he moved, his wrist turned, and the shovel in his hand instantly transformed into a triple king scepter, piercing into the fog.
Buzz!
A dull yet agile crisp sound, like the ringing of a bell.
Thin mist, a moist and exquisite face, deep Buddha-like eyes...
One look at him, and you could see a hermit monk sitting quietly in a gazebo, beneath the yellow maple leaves of autumn afternoon, silently copying Buddhist scriptures.
So, after that glance, Qin Yu turned the scepter and stepped forward... This monk was motionless, allowing Qin Yu to come close... Qin Yu circled around and reached out to catch Jiaojiao, who jumped down from the air.
Turning back to look at the calm monk, she raised her eyebrows and smiled.
