A faint cry for help reached Nian Shutong's ears clearly.
She turned her head to look downwards, a small finger was deftly bobbing in front of her eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't see anyone here."
She immediately took a step back and saw the person lying on the ground, to be precise, it was an old man.
Wearing simple and short clothes, his hair slightly gray, with a few blades of grass stuck messily on his head, and quite a few scratches on his face, it seemed he had taken a fall.
Nian Shutong squatted down and asked kindly, "Are you alright?"
"Do you think I'm alright?"
"I'm not you, how would I know."
Nian Shutong wasn't overly kind to help the old man up, because she couldn't discern his level; he seemed stronger than her, and yet not. Anyway, a cultivator who takes a fall doesn't need help getting up.
"Help me up!"
The old man, lying flat on the ground, looked at the woman who appeared out of nowhere, lacking any compassion.
