As the white cat jumped down from the pavilion beam, Zheng Qing secretly felt something amiss.
He quickly shifted his gaze slightly, focusing intently on the old locust tree not far away, as if a bunch of ginsengfruit had sprouted on the tree, laughing and waving at him.
But after just a simple exchange between the two witches, the atmosphere became somewhat tense.
Zheng Qing had to abandon his attempt to remain aloof from the situation just seconds ago.
"——Do you think we should uproot that old locust tree?"
He pointed at the old tree whose canopy nearly engulfed half of the Ziwei Palace, with a serious expression: "It's grown so large, the roots must have spread to every corner of this courtyard. If we don't uproot it, our Xuanhuang Wood will have no space to grow."
The leaves and branches of the old locust tree, swaying lightly in the breeze, suddenly stiffened.
The tense witches also finally turned their attention.
