Gu Jianlin understood himself very well. If not for some major setback in the future, he would never have said such things.
He cast an inquiring glance, wanting to know the true identity of that wicked woman.
"I can't recall her name, nor can I remember her appearance. I am merely a reflection of destiny and cannot see the full picture of the future. I only have a vague intuition. Moreover, the matter involves very high-level entities. In short, you must exercise caution, or else you will suffer greatly in the days to come." The man drove his sword into the ground and sat down cross-legged.
The faint starlight reflected off his expressionless face, and his silhouette seemed so desolate in the darkness of the night.
This future version of Gu Jianlin seemed to exhibit little change in personality—still cold and distant towards others, yet unfailingly polite. Even after killing so many people, he carried no scent of blood on him.
