In the splendid and flowing sea of light, the azure currents ebbed and flowed, resembling a Van Gogh-like starry night canvas, with an atmosphere serene yet heavy.
A capsule ship, dark as the abyss with a metallic sheen, quietly sailed into the canvas, journeying alone through it.
Within the capsule, a man and a woman, their golden eyes and black pupils in close, quiet confrontation, only the whisper of their intermingling breaths echoing through the hull.
Xia Feng's wrist was held above his head by the woman, and, with head raised, he quietly stared at the witch's indifferent expression from his lower position, his lips slowly curling up into a proud smile, "So, Miss Mu, you are challenging me?"
"Challenge?"
Mu Qingtong did not like this word—she never needed to challenge anyone, but she found it quite interesting if Xia Feng wished to challenge her.
"Of course, having Mr. Xia completely submit to me is indeed quite a challenge."
