The young aunt's attire was rather peculiar. She wore a bleached white daoist robe, a wooden hairpin adorned her bun, and she held a talisman in her left hand while a sword rested in her right. Behind her, she carried an unfamiliar seven-star sword.,When Hé Qióng heard this, he could no longer bear it.,Not far away, a dilapidated carriage lay stuck in the mud, its appearance mournful. The only sign of life was a discarded rabbit toy hanging from the yoke, swaying gently in the breeze.。