He stepped into the store in black boots, a black overcoat with wide sleeves draped over his shoulders, carrying with it the bleakness and chill of late autumn.

Feng Ziyi stood up with a fierce frown, his narrow phoenix eyes revealing undisguised hostility. His gentle and modest demeanor suddenly changed, and his whole body was covered with sharp thorns.

Jiang Yan also noticed him, her dark, lustrous eyes looking over quietly, her gaze calm and serene.

The two disciples he had brought with him immediately became hostile and tense upon meeting, and Shu Yun said that the current situation was very tricky.

She looked at the shop owner, who was nervously wringing his hands, and the customers who had left the shop after realizing something was wrong. She sighed and said softly, "Feng Ziyi, sit down. Don't waste food."

That sound...

A hint of shock flashed across Jiang Yan's calm black eyes, and his heart began to pound uncontrollably in his chest again. His abdominal injury had not yet fully healed, and the occasional pain was stimulating his nerves.

He involuntarily shifted his feet to the side, and the figure that was blocked by Feng Ziyi's body came into his view.

A storm raged in Jiang Yan's dark eyes as a complex mix of emotions—ecstasy, astonishment, and bittersweetness—overwhelmed him, causing his fingers, hanging by his sides, to curl slightly.

It was her, it was her—no one in this world could imitate her aloof and detached demeanor, surpassing countless others in the human realm.

Dusk seeped in through the gap in the curtain, like a golden-red thread stretching from the doorway to the feet of the two people.

Things that had been buried deep in my heart for many years seemed to come alive at this moment.

"Master."

He struggled to control himself, using his cloak to conceal his trembling hands, and stepped forward, his dark eyes fixed intently on her.