The winter wind blew gently, stirring the dead leaves into a dance and fluttering Jun Wuxie's robes.
Xi Qingyi's eyes widened, a panicked expression on his face as he glanced at Wenren Pingxin, then turned to Jun Wuxie and rebuked angrily, "Jun Wuxie! The audacity! It was clearly you who came to my Supreme Sword Peak to burn the grave. How dare you push all the blame onto me?"
Jun Wuxie didn't even bother to look at Xi Qingyi, which only increased the latter's panic.
Fifty years! This isn't a joke. I'm about to celebrate my eight-hundredth birthday, for crying out loud! What am I supposed to do if I get locked up now? Moreover, I've heard that the Reflection Cliff is a place of desolate mountains and treacherous waters. The last person locked up there for fifty years went mad after being released. They say the ground there is so clean you can't even find a bird dropping.
