Qinghe was not blind to the driver's gaze, but she simply pretended not to see. As someone hitching rides, the more she said, the more troublesome it became, so it was better to pretend to be unaware.
Along the way, she enjoyed the purely natural landscape, and when she felt tired, she closed her eyes for a short rest. The air she breathed in through her nose seemed to carry a familiar scent, a faint fragrance of grass. Living in the primeval jungle since she was little now seemed like a matter from the last century.
Having lived in the jungle for so many years, it seemed that there weren't as many occurrences as what had happened in the few years after she came out. Qinghe suddenly missed the peaceful and serene life in the jungle—so tranquil, undisturbed by the mundane world. An idea suddenly popped into her head: once she had dealt with the matter in the Immortal Lands, she must take Weisheng Yueren to live in the jungle for a while.