Jin Li couldn't hide his surprise when he received it, but he never used it after that. He just took it out carefully and wiped it thoroughly every night.
Mo Qianqiu could not change the habits of the divine beast, but Jin Li was very accustomed to Mo Qianqiu's extremely extravagant habits. Or perhaps, he simply did not understand what a heavenly-grade magic weapon was, and only regarded it as an ordinary weapon, not as useful as his own dragon claws.
The lake in the center of Dragon Island is not small, and Mo Qianqiu has no intention of rushing to travel through it, so he lets the Tianjie Treasure Ship drift with the waves.
Beneath the rippling emerald waters lurked tiny silver fish. The water, a hundred feet deep, was crystal clear, revealing the bottom, and the mottled, multicolored rocks shimmering in the sunlight. As ripples formed on the lake's surface, the emerald mountains gradually wrinkled. A rich, spiritual energy permeated the waters, making even a breath of air feel refreshing, joyful, and comfortable.
Three days later, Mo Qianqiu drove the treasure ship and prepared to return to the bamboo pavilion.
While steering the treasure ship, Mo Qianqiu offered a rare burst of sincere praise, "Your lake is truly breathtakingly beautiful. Aside from Jizhou's Full Moon Valley, I've never seen anything comparable. Jin Li, the spiritual energy on this lake has condensed into a mirage. Have you often come to view these mirages alone over the past eight thousand years?"
Jin Li nodded: "Yes, alone."
Mo Qianqiu curled her red lips and said, "I'll accompany you to watch it later."
When they arrived at the bamboo pavilion, Mo Qianqiu flicked his sleeves and put the treasure ship into his ring. He turned around and suddenly saw a person and a breathtaking scene.
The man, clutching a snow-white jade flute, with long black hair cascading down like a waterfall and dressed in a deep blue robe, stood in a bamboo pavilion in the middle of the lake. He slowly turned, his gaze clear as he looked at her. His cold, indifferent features gradually softened, his eyes a deep, clear blue. Simply standing there, he was captivated by the beauty of the lake and mountains, his tall, elegant figure.
For the first time, Mo Qianqiu thought this person was extremely handsome.
In his entire life, he had only ever admitted that one person was more beautiful than himself, and that was his best friend. The Demon Lord had always loved beautiful things, a fact known to everyone in the Demon Dao Palace. Demon Lord Jin Li was exceptionally good-looking, a fact also known to all the demon clan.
But for the first time, Mo Qianqiu felt... he seemed to have seen the most beautiful scenery in the world.
The demon king in blue clothes, holding a snow-white jade flute, looked as if the snow was melting in spring, and had the noble and aloof air unique to divine beasts.
Mo Qianqiu's eyes flashed, and he seemed to suddenly see a figure. The figure was blurry, also wearing a deep blue robe, and his face was blurred and could not be seen clearly. Mo Qianqiu felt that this person must be extremely beautiful.
The severe pain in his head shook again, Mo Qianqiu's eyes went dark, and he fell forward.
Before he was about to faint, Mo Qianqiu heard Jin Li's panicked voice: "Qianqiu!"
Mo Qianqiu subconsciously grabbed his hand and said weakly, "It's nothing, just a slight headache." After saying that he was fine, he fainted without any worries so as not to worry this person.
Before he truly lost consciousness, Mo Qianqiu felt himself being held tightly in this person's arms. The scorching heat flowed through that broad chest, and the person's warm breath whispered softly beside his ear: "My Qianqiu..."
When I open my eyes again, it will be a brand new tomorrow.
Mo Qianqiu still couldn't recall what the phantom he had seen was. Over the past two thousand years, he had suffered many injuries and had no idea why he felt dizzy and fainted, but he knew that his body was in no danger.
On Dragon Island, the two spent days and nights together. Sometimes Mo Qianqiu would get angry, but within three days, he would forget everything and reconcile with Jin Li. Boating on the lake, admiring the scenery, and practicing together, two hundred years later, Mo Qianqiu had firmly entered the early stages of the Spiritual Transformation Realm, and Jin Li was one step closer to the middle stages of the Spiritual Transformation Realm.
Two hundred years later, Mo Qianqiu made a grand visit to Mount Taihua. As expected, the head of Yuxiao Peak, Venerable Wu Xiaozi, had accepted a disciple and named him Wuyin. When Wuyin reached the Golden Core stage, Wu Xiaozi gave him the Taoist name Xuanlingzi.
Unlike himself and Jin Li, Wuyin had possessed memories of his previous life since birth. Mo Qianqiu had originally intended to play a trick on Xuan Lingzi while he was still young, but unexpectedly, this delicate child had a deadpan expression that would only appear centuries later. He said coldly, "I had no idea that the Demon Lord was so bored as to tease a younger generation."
Mo Qianqiu was suddenly speechless.
Now that there is one more person who remembers things from the previous life, then the things from the previous life must be true, right?
With this hope, Mo Qianqiu waited for three hundred years. That year, he, Jin Li, and Xuan Lingzi went to the banks of the Luo River, awaiting Luo Jianqing's appearance. In Gujia Village, the beautiful girl did become pregnant, but the child she gave birth to was a beautiful little girl.
From beginning to end, there was no Luo Jianqing.
Xuan Lingzi almost collapsed. He frantically deduced the way of heaven, trying to find the existence of Luo Jianqing. Mo Qianqiu also used the power of the Demonic Palace to search along the banks of the Luo River for a full fifty years, but there was no Luo Jianqing. Everyone tried, but there was no Luo Jianqing.
During that period, Xuan Lingzi had already closed his door to visitors and spent the whole day in seclusion calculating the laws of nature, but was often backfired by the laws of nature.
Mo Qianqiu was also in a low mood and often became absent-minded for no apparent reason. Whenever this happened, Jin Li would hug him and comfort him silently.
By the fiftieth year, Mo Qianqiu had truly given up. He recalled most of the forces from the Demonic Palace, leaving only a small number to guard the banks of the Luo River. Jin Li listened to his instructions, and after all the demon cultivators had left, he slowly extended his hand and said, "Qianqiu."
Mo Qianqiu walked up to him obediently, falling into Jin Li's arms. He was rarely so vulnerable, his eyes reddened. He hadn't had a good rest in fifty years. He couldn't cry, but the pain in his heart was even more painful.
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