Even before Yuan Xuelan's consciousness fully returned, he had a feeling that his rest was not normal. In fact, he was feeling extremely groggy and his consciousness was hovering in a weird, precarious place. And yet he could hear his own voice speak with a lively tone.
"Is this your great plan, Master Ivory Sword Saint? Hm, I understand your intention when facing beings such as Fallen Gods. However, whereabouts do you think you're going to get all the possible materials and stock for this great plan of yours?"
Another voice, more distant, responded.
Yuan Xuelan didn't have the energy necessary to be able to decode the conversation going on. He was also too preoccupied with the feeling of floating and the slow return of his senses.
He could feel that he was leaning over, and there was a person next to him who he was shamelessly leaning close to, so much so he was almost in this person's lap. There was also the feeling of something hard beneath his palm, a table perhaps.
