Li Miaotan glared at her: "Don't speak recklessly."
"Rest assured, Your Highness, I'm not that foolish," Li Yuzhen said with a smile.
Li Miaotan snorted, "And don't let your imagination run wild, lest you slip up."
"Yes, yes, yes," Li Yuzhen replied with a smile.
Li Miaotan gave her a sidelong glance, then looked back at Chu Zhiyuan.
The fierce wind howled, sweeping up the brushes, ink, paper, and tea cups on the desk.
Li Yuzhen gently flicked her sleeve to calm them.
The embroidery stool on the ground also showed signs of movement, wanting to float up, but was pressed down by Li Yuzhen's sleeve.
The two women's long hair fluttered, their robes billowing as if they were standing in a storm.
His aura continued to rise, like a mountain range soaring up.
As his aura changed, his hands formed various handprints, and his posture began to shift.
