As everyone arrived and took their seats,
Zhao Qian'er took a leisurely stroll around the room, casting an enchantment to prevent sound and prying eyes.
She nodded to Zhao Rong, "All set."
Then she went off to make tea.
Zhao Rong exhaled, leaned back, and waved his hand with a smile, signaling her to take a break.
After tonight's exhausting banquet, drinking any more would even be too much for a martial artist's prostate.
He leaned back in his chair, tilting his body, with his hand lazily supporting his chin, Qian'er silently walked over to massage his shoulders, all traces of her previous petulance outside gone.
Zhao Rong's eyelids slightly closed, his posture relaxed and comfortable, he got straight to the point:
"We've finally got some peace. As usual on the road, if you have any questions, just ask. We'll talk about the trip to Hanjing later."
"Ziyu, that's really not proper of you."
