Xiang Qingde's soul has already shattered, corroded spot by spot by the power of primordial simplicity.
Yet, he still stands there, his confused gaze gradually becoming clear. For a moment, his expression turns lucid, as if he suddenly recalls many things, like a last flash of clarity before fading.
He waves his hand, and the power of primordial simplicity spreads out, enveloping the surroundings. The chaotic power is unique, forcibly solidifying the surrounding space to block Houtu from the outside, making this area temporarily free from any interference.
Having done all this, he finally turns around and looks at Xiang Beifei.
"Grandfather..."
Xiang Beifei gazes at the soul that is about to be completely consumed, his heart trembling.
"I remember some things."
Xiang Qingde's voice is hoarse and weak, the power having already affected his ability to speak, yet he struggles to maintain his voice.
