Ning Feiyan bowed her head and stirred the soup tea, using the steam to mask the haggard pallor between her brows, displaying an elegant and refined demeanor.
She fetched a celadon teacup, filled it with tea, and made a gesture of invitation, saying, "Though the tempest is fierce, how can it disturb the cloth and disarray the steps."
She smiled slightly, her smile cultured and charming, "It's a cold and rainy night, why doesn't Your Majesty sit and have a cup of hot tea?"
The atmosphere inside the hall was extremely oppressive and heavy. Even Young Master Mi Lu, who had been severely wounded and recovering, rushed here anxiously. Ning Feiyan glanced lightly over the crowd behind the Demon Lord and smiled, "Chao Mu Hall hasn't been this lively in quite a while."
No one dared to sit for tea besides the Demon Lord.
