Dijiang was somewhat speechless. "If you don't understand, forget it. Do you think these people really care about how the Human Race fares? They're just trying to curry favor with Daochen. Some things simply don't need to be spelled out."
Zhurong waved his hand. "Forget it, forget it. Big Brother, you don't have to explain all that to me. I don't understand it anyway. What I really care about is when our eleventh sister will find a husband."
Goumang chimed in, "Exactly, exactly. We'd be better off figuring out how to marry Xuanming off."
The two of them started making Xuanming the subject of their jokes again.
"You make it sound as though I can't find a husband!"
Beside them, Xuanming burned with fury and could no longer hold it back.
Her fist suddenly slammed into Zhurong's stomach.
With everyone watching, she kept her movements small.
Yet that single punch nearly made Zhurong throw up last night's dinner.
To avoid embarrassing himself at the wedding banquet, he forcibly held it down. He even swallowed the food back.
Goumang fared no better. She stomped hard on his toes. The fingers were tied straight to the heart, and toes were no different-the pain made him grit his teeth. Still, he dared not make a sound. After all, this was Daochen's wedding banquet. If he disturbed the hosts, he would disgrace the Witch Clan.
Seeing the state of the two of them, Xuanming burst out laughing.
They were all grown up, yet they still loved fooling around.
She was rather speechless herself.
As the Demon Emperor and a powerhouse at the primordial unity great Luo level, how could Daochen fail to notice their little antics?
With Nüwa beside him, however, he could hardly call them out.
Nüwa seemed somewhat distracted.
Daochen hurriedly asked,