His tone was flat, even gentle.
A chill shot up Hu Liena's spine from her tailbone to the back of her neck. Her lips had barely moved before she could make a sound.
Her vision twisted.
It was not her imagination. The stone pillars, shrubs, pavilion dome—everything in the space before her seemed to have been gripped by an invisible hand and twisted.
When the scene came back into focus, Hu Liena was already sitting properly on the round stone stool before the stone table. Her back was pressed against the stool, her hands resting on her knees, her posture neat as though someone had arranged her.
Her scalp tingled as she instinctively tried to move, urging her Martial Soul.
But her body gave her no response.
Her consciousness was perfectly clear. Her eyes could move, and she could distinctly feel beads of sweat sliding across her skin.
But below her neck, every part of her body seemed to have been cast into a block of invisible amber. She could not move even half an inch.
At that moment, Hu Liena's heart hammered thunderously in her chest.
Yang Xing stood and walked around the stone table to her. Hu Liena could only follow his movements with her eyes; everything below her neck was completely beyond her control.
He picked up the teapot from the table.
Unhurriedly, he poured a cup of tea into the empty cup before her.
After pouring the tea, Yang Xing glanced at her.
His gaze swept over the sweat covering her head and the smile she was desperately forcing onto her stiff face. It did not linger, as if he were looking at something unimportant.
He set the teapot back on the table and tipped his chin at her.
"Drink."
Hu Liena found that she could