Whenever the words "Taichang Temple" were mentioned, Mu Chen acted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"You dare, you dead girl! I will report this to Grandma, and have her drag you back."
For the Ghost Cultivators of Fengdu, there was nothing more dreadful than Taichang Temple, or rather, the people from Taichang Holy Institute.
Ghost Cultivators are like shadows in the night, while the people from the Institute are akin to the scorching midday sun.
It never crossed Mu Chen's mind that Murong Ziyue would disregard family rules for Xin Lin.
Fuming with anger, Mu Chen flung his sleeves and left.
After a few steps, he gritted his teeth and cursed Murong Ziyue under his breath.
At that moment, the sky had already turned pitch black, and Mu Chen realized he had unwittingly walked onto a secluded path.
He felt a shiver down his spine, as if he was being watched by a ferocious beast.
