Chapter Eighty Seven : A Petal's Fall, A Blade's Rise
At the foot of Chaoxia Peak, a river flowed called Bailu River. It stretched hundreds of miles, passing through Lingyue City.
The water was crystal clear, like a mirror reflecting the drifting clouds above.
At that moment, a bamboo raft floated gently along the river. On it was a long bench, where Fang Ting and Su Xinyan sat, nestled together, drifting with the current.
Little Gray, meanwhile, stood at the front of the raft, gazing ahead.
The Bailu River twisted and turned — in the wider sections, it flowed calmly, but in narrower parts, the current sped up.
Whenever the raft drifted close enough to shore, Little Gray would leap onto the grassy, flower-filled banks beneath the shade of trees, run around excitedly, and then leap back on board.
He repeated this over and over, clearly enjoying himself immensely.
Ancient beast? Suanni? Right now, he looked more like a joyful puppy.