"Submit? How could I not submit?"
An Tianji took a deep breath and suddenly sighed. "Honestly, I truly submit. Hanging a little golden turtle around your neck was enough to change Father's standing."
"If you submit, then talk less and get lost already," An Ning said.
"No rush. I need to see what attitude our mother has. Her own daughter was decided on just like that—and it's still the pig she had her eye on. I refuse to believe she can swallow that," An Tianji said.
As for what Wei Wenlan truly felt, Li Tianming could not predict it either.
By now, she had surely received the news.
Sure enough, the moment the three of them emerged from the Imperial Gate, three figures appeared before it.
One of them was a tall, burly young man in purple armor, brimming with youthful vigor. He was An Ning's younger brother, An Tianshu. Beside him stood a purple-blooded ghost god, Zimo.
Judging from his expression, An Tianshu's face was overflowing with delight, though there was a trace of awkwardness mixed in.
As for Zimo, standing in the corner, he was clearly struggling not to collapse. He evidently liked An Ning, and this had undoubtedly dealt him a fatal blow. His entire being seemed to drift, and there was something wrong with his gaze.
However, Li Tianming could not be bothered to pay attention to him. Right now, only one person was in his eyes: An Ning's mother, Wei Wenlan.
Her orange hair curled like a waterfall as she stood before him, her deep eyes quietly fixed on Li Tianming.
She resembled An Ning, but their temperaments were completely different. An Ning was heroic and grand, agile and valiant, while her mother was alluring within yet dignified without, as deep as the sea, giving