Leaving Su Shijun's study.
The figure of the Qingqiu Ancestor silently appeared in midair above another mansion not far away, smiling as she stood beside an old lady with a head of silver hair and a kindly, benevolent face.
The old woman wore a plain black robe, leaned on a dragon-headed cane, and had a wide-brimmed, pointy Wizard Hat on her head.
She had originally been bowing her head, overlooking her own Zhongshan Mansion.
In the back garden of the mansion, a young Witch was not using any Magic Power; she was brandishing a pair of big shears, angrily trimming a rose bed that had already been neat and tidy. Snip, snip—the scattered petals fluttered down, piling up together, and had already formed a small red carpet under the young Witch's feet.
She sensed someone coming.
