Ling Yuan lowered her head, looked at the human-shaped pendant clinging to her leg, and suddenly smiled.
She had spent so many years in Spirit Hall. Everyone treated her with reverence and fear; they did not even dare speak loudly in front of her.
This was the first time someone had dared to hug her leg and rub against it, bargaining with her so fervently as he did so. At the end, he even remembered to flatter her, saying she had a soft heart.
"You're right," Ling Yuan said unhurriedly, her tone still calm. "My heart really isn't soft."
Deng Tianxin's expression froze.
"So acting cute won't work on me." Ling Yuan bent down, grabbed the back of Deng Tianxin's collar with one hand, and peeled him off her leg like an unruly kitten, holding him suspended in midair.
Deng Tianxin dangled with all four limbs in the air. His tiny hands and short legs flailed uselessly a few times before he lowered his head and let out a despairing sigh.
"Ten laps, starting now. Miss even one, and it doubles." Ling Yuan set him back on the ground and gave him a gentle push toward the starting line.
Deng Tianxin staggered two steps before steadying himself. He turned back and gave her a resentful look.
That look seemed to say: You're so pretty, yet so cruel. Sooner or later, you'll get what's coming to you.
Then Deng Tianxin took a deep breath, spread his short little legs, and began running around Pope Palace.
The sunlight stretched his tiny shadow long. Ling Yuan stood where she was with her arms crossed, watching that round little figure huff and puff along the palace wall, and could not help smiling again.
She opened the training manual in her hand and added a