The eyes of Daoist Changchun blazed with an irresistible, earnest expectation.
Long Nianqi noticed his indeed haggard face, tinged with age, looking as though he were in his thirties or forties. Although for a man, that age did not seem old, but rather came with a temperament refined by the years. However, compared to the members of the Mystical Sect present, who despite being seventy or eighty still maintained a debonair appearance, he indeed seemed rather aged.
Her gaze was filled with heartache, but due to her exceedingly solitary nature, having little experience mingling with others and scarcely any opportunity for interaction, she naturally did not realize that Daoist Changchun, despite his less than shiny appearance, indeed held a great reputation in the Human World.
