In Xingqing Palace.
The spring water was misty, creating ripples upon ripples that constantly flowed, making a rustling sound.
By the spring, Fang Yang's gaze was icy cold, his eyes like hell itself, emitting a faint, chilling light that commanded awe and fear.
Although he was at the Tri-Leaf Spirit Body realm, judging by his aura alone, there were very few who could withstand Fang Yang's oppressive might.
The Empress Dowager, with a face like peach blossoms, her thin gauze dress fluttering in the autumn wind, would occasionally lift, revealing her snow-white skin.
Her gaze was deep with resentment, her eyes brimming with sorrow, and from her lips escaped a deep sigh.
"I once offered my heart to the bright moon, but alas, the moon only shone upon the ditches. This palace took the greatest taboo in the world upon myself, willing to offer everything to the Demon Lord. Is the Demon Lord so cruel, or perhaps, does the Demon Lord actually enjoy this tune..."
