Zhang Qingsheng didn't look at the jar of blue snow that Xiu Wanxia bought for him. He waved his hands as the jar of blue snow appeared in his hand. He didn't touch the jar of blue snow as he threw the thing into the corner of his cave.
Zhang Qingsheng wiped the blood from his lips as he rushed to see the petals of the white and blue plum blossom tree.
At this time, he held several petals of the white and blue plum blossom tree gently, as if he were holding the precious treasures. He ignored his painful chest.
The white and blue plum blossom tree slowly changed into a ruby-red color. He kissed the ruby-red plum blossom petals gently, like he was kissing his beloved.
"Sheng'er, how is your injury?" An old and kind voice sounded as an old man with white hair and a whie beard slowly descended from the sky with his white hanfu like an immortal.
