Chen Ye took the teacup, his gaze falling on Li Qiuyun.
At home, she was not wearing the sect's Taoist robe, but a sleek black outfit.
The cuffs were tightly tied, adding to her neat and agile appearance.
Her long hair was tied high, exposing her smooth forehead and slender neck.
Though her looks were not as exquisite as Bai Susu's, nor as gentle as Mao Qingzhu's, she had her own unique charm.
Her eyebrows and eyes were full of spirit, her nose was straight, and especially those eyes, clear and bright, filled with a resilient determination.
Years of sword practice had given her an upright posture, her long legs were strong, even standing simply exuded abundant vitality.
At this moment, although her cheeks were slightly red, her gaze boldly met Chen Ye's eyes:
"Uncle Chen, your cultivation… it seems to have advanced again, hasn't it?"
