This place was strange, it was an old dilapidated hut. There were no decent houses around, and there were some pottery jars in the corner. However, a rather unremarkable bowl caught his eye - it looked exactly like a Ming Dynasty bowl.,All that happened was his face slowly turned purple, and he became increasingly hazy, though he remained suspended in mid-air, still swinging the little demon on the swing. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier.,Lin Zhaoran watched the fading figure, his face etched with a mixture of helplessness and resignation.。