Light mist rose before Leng Mei, but the tea still pierced through it, splashing part of her black robe. Droplets clung to her snow-white neck and collar.
She was a little shaken too. What kind of lousy nephew was this? He had only asked a question, yet his reaction was so huge—he had sprayed her with tea and saliva!
She hurriedly cast a cleansing spell over herself. Mythological factors surged, mingling with the water mist. Then she retreated several steps, her tall, slender figure swaying, her dark hair lifting as she instantly became sacred and ethereal.
"How could you think that?" Wang Xuan hurriedly said.
He had been on guard against Wu Liuji from the start. He had always called him Senior Brother and would never call him uncle even if beaten to death, precisely because he feared a situation like this.
Inside the giant city, Leng Mei no longer wore her black robe over her head, revealing a cold yet captivating fair face. She was far more composed than before, much more confident.
"I already know!" She took a few steps and sat in the seat of honor. No longer aloof, she revealed the temperament from the other of the two photographs circulating outside.
She smiled slightly, looking unexpectedly seductive. Her icy, snowy bearing thawed in an instant, becoming like flame and revealing an entirely different charm. "Little nephew, you really have some nerve. You actually dared to knock me down a peg again and again!"
Clearly, Wu Liuji had told her some things, and she had completely immersed herself in the role. Now that she was an elder, she maintained a bit of "reserved dignity," putting on the airs of a little aunt.
She sat there with one long leg slightly crossed, extending from beneath her black robe.