Half a month ago.
On the East Sea, about three hundred nautical miles from the coast, a white yacht was cutting through the waves.
Under a bright moon and sparse stars.
Inside the yacht, Su Zijun, dressed in a black dress, lifted a half-filled glass of deer blood, gazing at the pitch-black sea outside the window — beside her, Jessica appeared somewhat uneasy.
In front of the sofa, Ghost Baby had returned to his usual Mohican attire, holding a bottle of deer blood, waiting like a servant.
On the deck, an owl landed on Gui Qianyi's arm. The old turtle, whose exact age was unknown to many, locked eyes with the owl for a moment before turning and walking indoors.
"Princess, the Xuanyuan Gate is about to open, please prepare yourself."
Hearing Gui Qianyi's words, Jessica felt a bit nervous. She knew she was about to step into a realm on the Divine Land, an ancient tribe.
