My husband is the Ki

From the hem of his sleeves, an inky garment that shimmered faintly with silver light, a chain trailed. Jiang Qiyun stood before the gate of hell, eyes lowered as he stared at me.,I set up a purification altar on the first floor of this underground building, cleansing the centuries-old resentment and blood qi that permeated it. However, Zheng Daochang's hidden barrier on the second floor seemed to remain unaffected. The entire structure still held a strange and secretive aura.,This… I can hug. How come you, Seventh Uncle, can’t。