A boy of about fourteen or fifteen years old looked at Wang Xiu's stone tablet and said indignantly, "How can a young hero like the Sanqing Saint Heir die so unremarkably?"
By his side, a delicately beautiful and charming girl hurriedly said, "What nonsense are you talking about, brother? The Sanqing Saint Heir is just in a deep sleep, not dead!"
The boy replied, "Even being in a deep sleep isn't right! His story should be magnificent!"
The girl tilted her head and asked, "Brother, what do you want to do?"
After thinking for a bit, the boy said, "At the very least, we should add a biography for him! We must record his outstanding contributions to the Human Race so that future generations don't forget!"
The girl was stunned and couldn't react for a moment. A biography... Isn't that normally inscribed on tombstones? But the Sanqing Saint Heir isn't dead!
As she was lost in thought, the sound of SWISH, SWISH, SWISH reached her ears.
