In front of his desk, Zheng Qing, who was working hard on drawing talisman, had no awareness of the malicious gazes starting to surface around him.
The bristles of the brush in the inkwell had once again filled with ink.
He lifted his pen again, thinking about designing the next talisman.
From the start until now, just fifteen minutes had passed and he had already finished five Calm Heart Talismans.
Every three to four minutes, a new talisman would be cast on Li Meng.
He hadn't wasted a single talisman.
The spectators were amazed, words of praise flowing from their mouths.
Everyone marvelled at the extraordinary talent and well-deserved reputation of Zheng Qing, a Kunlun Descendant.
These praises only increased Arthur Ness's disdain for the figure in front of the desk.
What irritated him even more was the admiration his companions showed for this situation.
