Soft white gauze flowed down with each rise and fall of her body. Her jade-like feet, unadorned by silk socks, were tinged with touches of vermilion as she fiddled with a wine cup in her hands.
A crystalline, snow-like clarity still clung to her, yet now it bore an added touch of poignant melancholy.
But one thing was beyond dispute: that face was stunningly beautiful!
"Where's your man?"
Ji Nanjue's face instantly flushed with embarrassed annoyance. She bit her lower lip and let out a cold snort.
"Who cares if he's alive or dead? Right now, he's probably off playing with that dragon..."
"What on earth is on his mind all day? It's always about *that*—and then more of *that*! To think I once regarded him as a gentleman. All he ever does is cling to... what's her name, Ji Baoer..."
"With so many people in all Twenty-One Provinces, why did the Supreme Yang Body have to be his?"
