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Only a pointed head peeked out, with youthful face and silver hair. A Daoist Mixed Yuan sash was pressed against his full head of white strands.,Not long ago, he tried to shout for help, but whether it was because the underground palace was too deep or it was late at night and no one was around, there was no movement outside.,So that morning, Ou Yangrong, with his sharp and critical gaze, took a taxi to Donglin Temple. When he arrived, he saw, "Goodness gracious! Not only was Mo Daojun early, but there were even people earlier than him. The queue of worshippers stretched all the way down the mountain. Ahead of him were mostly people his age, huddled in the cold wind, scrolling through their phones."。

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