©NovelBuddy
PREVIEW
... war, not bloodshed—no, something worse.
Mu Qingling had decided to host a tea party.
For cultivators.
In the middle of the sect's most sacred meditation courtyard.
With peach blossom wine, steamed buns, and a very confused Wang Li sitting awkwardly on a silk mat while dozens of disciples whispered from the distance.
"Qingling," he hissed, tugging at the unfamiliar white robe she forced him into, "what in all nine heavens is this?"
"A strategic offe ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE