Wang Qian folded her arms across her chest, pulling her clothes tight. "Dirty," she insisted.
Zhang Deming shook his head seriously. "No," he said firmly. "It's very clean now. I said so!"
Wang Qian froze. A light flickered back into her dim eyes, shining with an exceptional brightness as she looked at Zhang Deming. It was what one might call hope, or perhaps, a purpose.
"Do you want revenge?" Zhang Deming asked.
Wang Qian came back to her senses but shook her head. "I don't."
Zhang Deming was taken aback. "Why?" he asked in surprise.
"Because if I get revenge, I won't be able to follow you! I want to follow you. My grandfather said that Immortal Envoys aren't really bothered by mortals, they just hate dealing with trouble. I only want to follow you; I don't want to be a burden," Wang Qian stated plainly, her demeanor transformed.
