"Mother, how come you haven't died yet?"
As Fenghu turned around and saw that his mother Huang Yi was still among the living, he was immediately astonished, but then quickly corrected himself, "What I meant to say was, it's wonderful that mother hasn't died."
Huang Yi rolled her eyes. Her child was not bad—talented and intelligent, but except for having a mouth, he had hardly any brain. It was nearly impossible to pick out a flaw.
It was her fault, having a child so late and doting on him excessively, that she had nurtured this birdlike state in him.
Huang Yi's bloodline and power were decent, with a lifespan nearing four thousand years, born into the royal family, she had been a renowned prodigy since her youth.
