“Thank you, Huang Quan.”
The gratitude in Qin Xiangyi’s heart had barely risen when the clothes seemed to sense her emotions. They flowed up over her body, swallowing the extra layers she was wearing.
When she looked down again, she realized she was now dressed in a full ancient-style outfit.
She stared, stunned, at the garment’s apparent self-awareness—then heard a faint clicking of the tongue from somewhere nearby.
“Well now, the Phoenix Feather Robe actually accepted a master that easily. Must be getting old—its eyesight’s gone.”
The teasing voice carried its usual disdain for Qin Xiangyi, so she immediately...
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