The hall doors slid open soundlessly, and Xue Qinglan, returning from her patrol, stepped inside.
Her cool, ice-blue eyes swept over Ji Juechen and Wang Dong'er, lingering briefly on Wang Dong'er's Light Goddess Butterfly Martial Soul as a flicker of surprise crossed her gaze.
As usual, she walked to the other side of Ling Han's throne and took her place, forming a protective formation with Wang Qiu'er on either side.
Three peerlessly beautiful women, each with a distinct temperament and formidable strength, guarded the youth seated upon the throne.
Wang Qiu'er stood at the rear left, golden hair and dragon eyes, her posture straight as a spear. Her pure sense of power was like solidified lava.
Proud, direct, and obedient only to the young master.
She showed no reaction to Ji Juechen and Wang Dong'er's arrival. Her gaze remained fixed on the surroundings in vigilance, and only when Wang Dong'er came closer did her gleaming golden dragon eyes cast her an exceptionally indifferent glance, as though she were looking at a slightly brighter flying insect.
Xue Qinglan stood at the rear right, her icy eyes carrying the chill of eternal ice, her bearing cold and aloof.
She calmly accepted Ji Juechen and Wang Dong'er's presence. She was mildly interested in Wang Dong'er's light attribute, but it went no further than scrutiny and assessment, like a mark carved into an ice wall.
Wang Dong'er stood below the throne steps, her pink-blue hair and butterfly wings gleaming, her eyes lively and pure.
Being allowed to remain by the young master's side filled her with excitement. She was curious about Wang Qiu'er's pure pressure and somewhat wanted to get close to her, while she stuck out her little tongue at Xue Qinglan's coldness.
Her presence was like a flower of light quietly blooming