Qin Jiu sighed. "Why is everyone like this... No, I heard that the Inner Sect's senior sister already has seventeen or eighteen flying swords at the Nascent Soul Stage. As a direct disciple of the sect, how could I possibly be lacking flying swords?"
"Alright, senior. If you really want it, I'll give it to you. I'll just tell that old man earlier to go grab it back from Qingcheng Mountain."
Qin Jiu had just reached out to hand over the celestial lamp when the green-robed Daoist from Qingcheng Mountain suddenly froze, his face contorting as he cursed loudly, "You son of a turtle! Of all times, why now?! That old hag really has a damn good knack for timing!"
With that, he flicked his sleeve and transformed into a gust of wind, disappearing without a trace. Qin Jiu blinked, only to find a black-robed Daoist nun with a veiled face standing before him.
"Huh? Daoist of Qingcheng, why did you suddenly transform?"
