The sun was setting in the west, its golden rays spreading over the stone-paved roads of Yunhe Town, without the slightest feeling of twilight.
The continuous flow of pedestrians and the increasingly dense atmosphere of living smoke made this antique town appear very youthful.
Perhaps because they had changed into the Dubhe Pavilion uniforms, there was always someone pointing at Lin Yi and his companions as they walked.
Zhang Yun, however, was indifferent to this, perhaps long accustomed to being looked at with unusual eyes, her face showed no trace of displeasure, always responding to the dark world with a gentle smile.
"Xiaoyi, you guys aren't locals, right?"
....
Since Lin Yi could remember, there have truly been quite a few people calling him Xiaoyi.
But being called that by a sixteen-year-old girl, Lin Yi felt somewhat uncomfortable.
"Uh, yes, Master, we, we are from...."
Zhang Yun waved her hand, responded nonchalantly.
