Like a late breeze blowing across the lotus leaves, rustling sounds were made, those sounds, were unexpectedly melodious.
"Advise you not to cherish the robe woven with gold thread, urge you to cherish the days of youth.
Flowers should be plucked when blooming, don't wait till there are no flowers, only to pluck empty branches."
Emperor Yongye's body shook, his footsteps hanging in mid-air, as if petrified.
Dugu Wu's fist, too, suddenly relaxed.
He lifted his eyes, heterochromia dazzlingly brilliant, even brighter than the stars in the sky by a few degrees.
Nearby, the constant chirping of insects, in the distance, the continuous croaking of frogs.
Dongfang Cheng was dumb as a wooden chicken.
Emperor Yongye took the final step, a slight warmth in his eyes.
"Prepare the carriage, back to the palace."
The bright yellow silhouette disappeared into the thick night.
Dongfang Cheng's expression also flickered, and after a while, he cursed and left reluctantly with his men.
