Nighttime, the hour of Mao, the sky faintly blue.
The hour of Mao was not Yi Taoist's limit, it was Zhen Ruan's limit.
At this moment, Zhen Ruan's skin was pink, and she was fast asleep on the brocaded couch, like a lump of soft mud.
Yi Chen pushed open the door, came to a quiet room, sat down cross-legged, took out the halberd, and laid it across his legs.
Since the last time he had killed the Wusheng Sword Mother and its associative ghost spirit, the Halberd had devoured the Fengxie Sword without leaving anything behind, not a single bit wasted.
Even though the Fengxie Sword didn't have a ghost spirit in it, being nurtured by generations of Jianxie Sect cultivators, it was still a rare sharp weapon. With its help, after conveying a message of deep slumber to Yi Chen, the Halberd went silent.
Just now, Yi Chen felt a fluctuation coming from the Holy Halberd, assuming the Halberd was about to wake up, so he came to the quiet room to await this phase of evolution.