A rosy flush spread across Xiao Minghuang’s face.
She circulated the *Ziwei Imperial Dao Scripture* with all her might, resisting the pressure whose source she could not identify.
At that moment, a strange fluctuation appeared and rippled out from the void. A faint golden halo emerged.
Within the hazy mist, a faint, illusory figure slowly took shape.
“What year is it now?”
An ethereal voice drifted through the thin mist and reached Xiao Minghuang’s ears.
Her mind shook violently. She could sense the majesty emanating from the figure.
Yet beneath that majesty was a sense of warmth. It did...
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