The clouds grew thicker and thicker, as if ink had been dripped into them.
Lightning occasionally flashed through gaps in the dark clouds, and muffled thunder shook their eardrums painfully. Though the thunderclaps were frightening, the rain refused to fall. The sky was so dim it seemed night had already arrived, and the oppressive heaviness made it hard to breathe.
The terrifying pressure came swiftly and vanished just as swiftly. In an instant, only ink-dark clouds remained, gathering and churning.
A certain white dragon stepped on the flowers in the flowerbed and went straight back inside. The commander finally heaved a sigh of relief, drenched in sweat as though he had just been pulled out of a steamer. Looking at the crushed flowers, he felt inexplicably heartsick.
Bai Yujun returned to the study and rifled through maps. Her anger from earlier had been brief. Bai Moulong had seen far too much misery over her long life—where would she find the time to be angry every day? The problem still needed solving, and she still needed to eat.
Steam billowed from the kitchen as the cook fussed with pots, bowls, ladles, and pans, playing the most beautiful melody of delicious food in a glutton's heart.
The fragrance of crayfish and seasonings drifted through the air, its tempting scent easing the oppressive atmosphere.
In the reception hall, the woman helplessly exchanged courtesies with the richly dressed young man, speaking hollow nonsense.
"Aunt, the flowers in our family garden are in full bloom. Father has invited friends from all around to hold a grand Hundred Flowers Banquet..."
"Oh, it should be lively."
"A few days ago, your nephew went to the Prefecture City to discuss business and became acquainted with several outstanding young men. We agreed to visit Green Mountain Temple together at