A gust of cold wind swept through the tent curtain, and the snowflakes falling from the sky drifted inside the tent.
The princess in a hanging palace dress stared intently at the woman in black seated in the main seat, her little fists clenched tight, while the expression of the woman in black remained unchanged, her interest evident as she sized up the countenance of the Jiatiange Saintess before her.
Their gazes met in silence, and a deadly stillness spread.
"Humph..."
Li Qingyan, who sat in the main seat, leaned slightly forward, resting her elbows on the desk, her fingers interlaced under her chin, she spoke unhurriedly:
"Although women can cultivate too, the military is largely composed of men. I've been campaigning for years, and if I didn't bind my chest and dress as a man, I fear I would not be able to establish authority within the army. Secondly, the soldiers' idle thoughts could run rampant."
She paused, her beautiful eyes curving into crescent moons:
