Qingxuan Holy Land, Wen Tian Pavilion.

A gentle breeze swept through, and Nian Chaoxi, who was sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed, suddenly opened her eyes and looked towards the door:

"Master."

"Hmm." Guan Xuelan nodded slightly, stepped into Wen Tian Pavilion, glanced at her eldest disciple's head full of white hair, and after a moment of silence, said: