Chu Mirong's plan only served to make Liu Sumeng frown. He had no interest in her aspirations and found her schemes to be flawed. Not only that but her intentions were questionable as well, making the Ivory Sword Saint feel even more apprehensive.
He was quiet in his thoughts and Chu Mirong did not take kindly to that. She pouted, impatient and inspected the ends of her hair.
"Did you forget what is owed of you?" she hissed and a sizzling sound was ignited upon Liu Sumeng's chest.
The Ivory Sword Saint startled, eyes wide as his hands gripped at his desk. He felt inexplicably dizzy and weak, the pain surprisingly sharp. White dotted his vision and Liu Sumeng felt his awareness slip.
When he came to, he was seated at his desk and before him was Chu Mirong's smiling visage, her head held up with a palm and elbow resting against the wood of the table's surface.
"How about now?" she asked playfully. "Are you feeling more up to the task?"
