Mo Huai'an was about sixteen or seventeen, with rosy lips and white teeth, clear brows, and bright eyes, possessing an outstanding and elegant appearance.
Wearing a Daoist robe, he looked like an immortal child descended to the mortal world.
But Zhang Yuan, looking at him, sensed a bit of that clear yet naïve foolishness he remembered from college students in his previous life!
Such an innocent and pure-hearted youth, unfamiliar with worldly affairs, indeed needed a seasoned guide to accompany him on his travels.
Otherwise, he might end up being tricked and still help others count the silver notes.
Someone like him could at least be worth tens of thousands of silver, right?
Zhang Yuan thought secretly.
Wei Long introduced the two to each other.
Mo Huai'an is seventeen this year and already at the mage level of cultivation, truly deserving the name of a prodigy.
