Sister Qiong's gaze was filled with resentment as she pressed Meng Qingzhou down onto the throne, her breath like orchids, whispering softly in his ear:

"In this world, only two people understand the Dao of Space-Time. No matter how you hide, in my eyes, it's like walking with a candle in the dark."

"Sword Saint Grandfather, I really missed you..."

A hint of crimson flickered in Sister Qiong's golden vertical pupils. Thousands of years had passed, and she had been counting the days, waiting for this moment.