"Impossible!"
Qin Kaihe took another sip: "That light just now is a method of God! I saw it once 45 years ago, and I will never admit it's wrong!"
Ye Fengsheng smiled, finally understanding where the problem was.
Forty-five years ago, it was when grandfather was on the mountain, summoning Ling onto the Yangtze River in front of him. If he witnessed the process of grandfather depicting the battlefield, he would always miss it.
Thinking about this, Ye Fengsheng stood up, walked over to him, bowed slightly, and looked down at those nonchalant eyes, saying:
"Fairy, is she beautiful?"
Unconsciously opening his lips, a look of panic flashed across Qin Kaihe's eyes, then he extended his fingers across Ye Fengsheng's voice, as if unconsciously moving them up and down, at this moment, his wrinkled face moved along the mountain path in an earthquake and wouldn't stop.
Banga was filled with incredulous words: "You, you?"
"It's me."
