Ning Xuan looked at him. 'Is it because he's so powerful that the feathers on his wings are also exceptionally tough? Plucking just one is so difficult.'
Seeing Di Youlin grit his teeth through the pain and let her do as she pleased, Ning Xuan's anger slowly subsided. This proud and powerful young man was like a tamed beast, willingly submitting at her feet.
Di Youlin, keenly sensing the shift in Ning Xuan's mood, secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He felt he had narrowly escaped disaster for the time being.
Ning Xuan gazed at the feather in her hand, marveling at it. The feather was a deep, golden-red color, as if forged from the afterglow of a sunset or refined from the essence of a flame. Its edges shimmered with a faint golden halo, like tiny flames gently flickering, emitting a warm and mysterious light.
