Gao Huating raised her left hand to cover her mouth and nose.
This was just an unconscious action. Her right hand was still pressing on that notebook, looking at the words that were sometimes messy and sometimes neat.
Calling it a diary isn't quite accurate, because it wasn't written every day.
This should be an annual record, documenting Wang Jixuan's 'outbursts' every now and then.
Gao Huating could only feel fortunate now, fortunate that Mu Dan chose to accompany her teacher; otherwise, in that dark, cramped space where even turning over was difficult, enduring seven or eight thousand years to return to the Present World...
Even if one could go into seclusion and engage in Enlightenment to forget their situation temporarily, that strange feeling would always accompany them.
Gao Huating, even just after a dozen years in a similar situation, was already nearly unable to bear it;
