Feng Yin offered a faint smile and stood up. "Your Majesty, I shall see you again in Yuezhou in three months. Of course, if the battle of Yuezhou is not over after three months, we'll just have to postpone it further."
"Agreed!"
The Golden Emperor didn't fuss and directly accepted the proposal.
"In that case, I take my leave."
Feng Yin drifted away.
Yet the Golden Emperor, having resolved a worry, still sat there heavily burdened with thoughts and didn't move for a long while.
He clearly understood the meaning behind Feng Yin's last few words.
But what troubled him most was the serpent race crisis pointed out by Master Ling.
Master Ling wasn't wrong.
The serpent race indeed faced a tremendous crisis, and it was just beginning. As the four hundred or so talents grew, the crisis would only worsen.
