Her beauty was utterly distinct from that of the Demon Empress: one possessed a beauty that could overthrow states with an aura cold as frost, while the other exuded a pitiable charm, akin to an orchid in the rain.
Standing together now, they were the very epitome of an exquisitely beautiful painting of court ladies.
Even Fang Yang couldn't help but appreciate the sight, the corners of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk, his face bearing a faint smile. His scorching hot palm, still wet with droplets of dew, emitted a subtle, enticing fragrance.
This also made the Demon Empress pause, her cheeks flushing even redder, as if blood might drip from them at any moment.
Obviously, she was reminded of her own humiliating behavior in front of the Demon Head.
However, she quickly seemed to think of something, her icy gaze suddenly shooting towards Fang Yang, just in time to catch a glimpse of Fang Yang's deep pupils and his indifferent expression.
