The next morning, the sky had just brightened.
Xu Ping stood at the door of her disciple's courtyard.
In the courtyard, there were a few neat and exquisite rows of spirit plants, all of which were of some precious species. Because of a night of neglect, they looked a little bit haggard, and the bluestone floor was covered with a layer of frost.
Xu Ping was not in the mood to pay attention to this. She stared at the room in the courtyard and stood still. She felt an inexplicable uneasiness and did not dare to probe with her spiritual sense.
As a mighty figure at the summit of the Form Synthesis stage, it was hard to find a worthy opponent in the world. At this moment, she was particularly afraid of facing her former lover.