On the Dragon Steed Imperial Chariot, two figures made a striking contrast.
The brawny young man seated cross-legged on the left suddenly opened his eyes. It was as if a wildfire smoldered in his gaze at all times. He was none other than Fourth Young Master Qin Kuangge.
"Too slow!" He slammed a fist into the carriage frame. Defensive Dao Patterns instantly shimmered across the entire chariot. "We Martial Practitioners can't afford to drag our feet like this..."
"Pfft!" A girlish giggle cut off his bold declaration.
Qin Zhaoer swung her pale, tender legs. A bell hidden somewhere jingled crisply with every movement. She even deliberately lifted her little feet high, while the peach-blossom embroidery on her skirt fluttered in the breeze, revealing a glimpse of her smooth, jade-like calves.
"Martial Practitioners?" Qin Zhaoer tilted her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. She wore an innocent yet wicked smile. "Fourth Brother, don't tell me you think everyone's head is full of muscle, just like yours?"
As she spoke, she suddenly sensed someone watching her. Turning, she saw Qin Wangchuan gazing quietly at her.
Qin Zhaoer immediately shrank her neck and rolled her eyes. "What are you staring at? Get in already! Stop dawdling!"
"Eighth Sister," Qin Wangchuan said calmly, "aren't you sitting in my chariot?"
"Obviously!" Qin Zhaoer pursed her lips, looking thoroughly disdainful. "Of course it's your chariot. I'll sit in the back—is that so hard to understand?"
Before the words had even left her mouth, she sprang off the chariot. But the instant Qin Wangchuan stepped aboard, she slipped right back inside, whisked aside the curtain, and plopped down in the main seat as if she owned the place.
"I've changed my mind," she said, crossing her legs and swinging her pale little feet as