The young aunt's attire was rather peculiar. She wore a bleached white daoist robe, a wooden hairpin adorned her bun, and she held a talisman in her left hand while a sword rested in her right. Behind her, she carried an unfamiliar seven-star sword.,Suddenly, the gloom in He Qiong's heart vanished and a smile curved at the corner of her lips.,Only mud remained, mixed with debris, dust, and paper, indistinguishable from each other, a sight that shocked the eyes.。