The night is dim. Only with cultivators' eyes can recognize this thin golden blade three inches deep into the rock. It is actually a golden feather.

Lin Luoran feels familiar with the golden texture from the inside. Her heart seems to be pinched by someone gently and beats slower. She feels excited and frightened both at the same time. A name is on the tip of her tongue, rolling and tossing, but she still can't say it loudly.

She looks up calmly. A golden hawk is ...