The Ordinary Lian Sanyue

The voice from the small green-curtain sedan sounded like a young person.

The young disciples of various sects thought the voice sounded familiar, but they couldn't put their finger on who she was.

As for those swordsmen of higher generation, they didn't have any impression of the voice; they thought the person must someone insignificant at the Water-Moon Nunnery.

For some reason, the Immortal Tan's eyes grew grave when he looked at the small green curtain sedan.

A red cloth froze in a courtyard outside the royal palace, as Yin San halted his steps and looked in the direction of the royal palace; the expression in his eyes changed slightly.

Back when he was pursued by the cloud boat of the Center Sect, Yin San displayed a carefree countenance, and he didn't care that much that Yue Qianmen and dozens of swordsmen of the Center Sect were following him closely behind.