Crafty old fox!
Minerva cursed inwardly.
Li Lin leisurely picked up a cup of tea, wafted away the steam, and didn't seem to have any intention of pressing his advantage.
From the start, he had never considered Minerva an equal in these negotiations.
Too young, too impulsive, and too inexperienced, the Princess hardly deserved the honorific title of "opponent." With even a shred of experience and a thicker skin, she could have completely disregarded the facts and casually glossed over the events in the Crown Domain, continuing to harp on Alfheim's policy of racial segregation—much like Rice Country politicians issuing annual human rights reports on other nations.
With a light sip of his tea, Li Lin fired another shot at Minerva, who was caught between a rock and a hard place.
"Your country admittedly doesn't have a racial problem, because the races that have problems don't exist, or are close to not existing."
