...
The spring rain persisted without end, falling into the sea and stirring countless ripples.
A bundle of red clouds moved leisurely across the sky.
Atop the red clouds, a man stood and a woman sat.
Yet a third voice, unexpectedly and abruptly, entered the man's ears.
"Merely a brief encounter of passion, and yet you're generous enough to give her gifts, even troubling this old man to personally craft a Third Order Puppet for her."
The man chuckled, "Don't speak so crassly; mutual affection was there, after all."
From within the Ten Thousand Soul Banner, Han Zhan let out a snort of laughter, "Do you think I'm ignorant of love? In the Luo Yun Sect, my bloodline has been passed down for several generations; nothing like your so-called mutual affection. There is neither proper name nor rightful words, no matchmaker's introduction, and no grand ceremony."
