Half a month later.
Tiger and dragon intersect; clouds disperse, rain stops...
On Wanfa Peak, the sky cleared up.
Goo goo goo...
"Sizzle——"
Wang Ba leaned back on the low chair in front of the old house, placing the small teacup on the nearby small bamboo table. Casually flicking the curious Spirit Chicken away with his finger, he gazed into the distance.
A figure with hair tied up, light and graceful, was cheerfully busy between the cutting board and table, humming an unknown tune.
A sense of peace filled his heart.
Cooking smoke curled up, the sounds of chicken and dogs heard in the air.
Supreme True Buddha, Realm Sea, Little Cang World... the many worries in his heart seemed infinitely remote, as if they had nothing to do with him.
Only the present felt incredibly real and grounded.
Occasionally glancing back, Bu Chan noticed the peeping gaze of a certain someone behind the cooking smoke and glared at him with a long-lost blush like rosy clouds:
