The Demon Domain Master is extremely strict, these Demonic Cultivators have become spies; normally, they would have been dead by now. How could they so easily let them go, like passing gas?
Wanwan watched Wuming's figure disappear from view and couldn't help but start to doubt...
Did the Domain Master go out late at night and his mind isn't clear?
A few Demonic Cultivators felt uneasy and couldn't sleep.
So they all decided to rush to the punishment room, and insisted that the master in charge of discipline whip them dozens of times, only then did they feel at ease.
In the room at night, the main light wasn't on, only an orange bedside nightlight was lit. Wuming sat on a single chair, his feet on a warm European-style carpet, gazing down at the Jade Slip, his slender fingers gently stroking its edge.
Suddenly, he raised his hand, drawing streams of light in the air, and words appeared from his fingertips:
"I miss you."
