"Can Aunt Tian use this equipnt even though she’s not in the sect yet?" Leng Yanhua couldn’t help asking.
"Just prepare it for now. She’ll be able to use it in the future." Wang Burin replied confidently.
"I-I haven’t joined a sect either." Leng Yanhua added, perhaps considering if he could get a piece of the pie.
"Between you and the goddess, who’s more important?" Wang Burin glanced at Leng Yanhua and asked.
Leng Yanhua was silent, alright, he was left speechless by this bootlicker.
"Goddess, there’s more stuff ahead. There’s bound to be sothing useful for you." Wang Burin eagerly turned to Tianmiao and said.
"Thanks." Tianmiao replied casually.
Wang Burin felt like he was basking in spring sunshine facing the goddess, that simple ’thank you’ made him happier than receiving millions; his sense of pride surged.
Privately, Leng Yanhua started to complain to Ai Li again: "I can’t wait to see what kind of end this bootlicker ets!"
Ai Li pursed her lips and smiled without saying a word.
"There’s another boss, goddess. Most others who haven’t seen much don’t think it’ll drop anything good, but I know it’ll drop hidden treasures. It’s so rare, that’s why nobody cos here. But goddess, you are sure to make it reveal the hidden gems!" Wang Burin led the way, praising obsequiously all the while.
Leng Yanhua twitched at the mouth, this damn bootlicker was even praising himself now. What does he an by soone who hasn’t seen much doesn’t know? Oh, he knows, he’s seen the world.
The group walked towards the focal point of this magnificent Imperial Palace, the Altar of Heaven.
Just as Tianmiao stepped onto the altar steps, the wind howled suddenly, and the scenery changed to a stormy night.
Wang Burin seed well-prepared, as soon as the weather changed he opened an oil-paper umbrella, quickly stepped beside Tianmiao, shielding her from the rain.
Tianmiao wasn’t drenched, while Leng Yanhua and Ai Li, along with Wang Burin’s followers, got soaked to the bone.
Leng Yanhua spat out a mouthful of rainwater, glaring at Wang Burin who was holding an umbrella for Tianmiao, his mouth twitching fiercely. This bootlicker, to please the goddess, didn’t even tell them it would rain here. And the timing was just perfect; look, Tianmiao wasn’t wet at all.
"Goddess, be careful, the steps are slippery, the rain’s heavy, don’t get soaked." Wang Burin’s voice was the epito of sycophancy.
In Leng Yanhua’s eyes, Wang Burin looked exactly like a eunuch by the Princess’s side, almost wanting to lie down and carry the goddess on his back—a complete spectacle!
At the end of the steps was a thin wall of air, right ahead it seed like they were watching an imrsive movie, the altar’s plot unfolded.
Thousands of guards surrounded the altar tightly, while the Emperor looked down from the high platform.
"You treacherous Daoist, you killed my beloved, drove my Crown Prince mad; today you shall be ground to dust!"
Every word from the majestic male voice was like a sharp steel blade, continuously stabbing the man trapped in the altar’s center.
Tianmiao saw the man surrounded in the center, wearing a light cyan Daoist robe, facing the blades of these guards, he remained serene.
The young Daoist chuckled, his tone flat yet tinged with undetectable mockery: "If you want to bla soone, bla yourself, Emperor."
He stepped forward, unfolded his clasped hands, the horsetail whisk flicked past, flipping all the heavy guards in front, revealing a way to the high throne, but was quickly sealed by the guards behind.
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