That scene flashed by in an instant, so fast it felt like an illusion.
It was layered over and deeply buried beneath the vast-as-smoke, heavy-as-mountains Martial Intent of Qin Qingluo, like a single pearl in a boundless sea—so small it could almost be ignored, yet so tenacious it was hard to erase.
The brightness flying across Min Ning's face stalled for a moment, then slowly drew back.
"Prince's Martial Intent… after being reborn in fire, it has risen to yet another level."
She spoke slowly, her face expressionless, her tone unusually light.
When she finished, Min Ning gave a faint shake; the tough clothes on her body trembled with it, as if shaking off all her Martial Intent. The unrestrained, freely surging aura around her scattered like a flock of birds returning to the forest.
