The room's furnishings were simple and elegant. In an incense burner, sandalwood burned, calming the mind and steadying the spirit.
Leng Qingqiu sat upright at a desk, her expression focused and cool as she flipped through a yellowed scroll.
Just as Chu Fan's Divine Sense tried to draw closer to see what the scroll contained…
Leng Qingqiu, who had been reading with her head down, paused slightly.
Without looking up, a hint of helpless exasperation flashed in her cool eyes.
She extended a slender, jade-like finger and poked gently at the empty air.
To Chu Fan's Divine Sense, this seemingly casual poke felt as if it had struck him right in the eyes!
"Ah!"
In the real world, Chu Fan, who was sitting cross-legged in the Martial Arts Arena, cried out sharply. His body, as if struck by lightning, fell backward.
"Young Master!"
"Chu Fan!"
