Mystic Clan of the P

Below sat a small patch of straw-thatched huts and vast fields of rice.,Remembering the past silently, Lu Jiangxian had a splitting headache. All he could recall was himself collapsing on his bed, weak and drained. The smoke from his rental room and the neon lights flickered around him.,“This is me now, isn't it” Lu Jiangxian chuckled wryly. Then, he deliberately controlled the airflow to stagnate in the center of the mirror. A faint glimmer emanated from the grayish-green mirror.。