Saintess Honglian showed a trace of surprise; she knew the Holy Guard wouldn't be so out of line without serious reason.
"Come in," she said, her vermilion lips barely moving, her voice extremely soft.
The Holy Guard entered, knelt on one knee to salute, and when his gaze fell upon Saintess Honglian, he trembled involuntarily, his eyes seemingly glued to her and unable to look away.
Saintess Honglian wasn't angry but coughed lightly. The Holy Guard came to his senses, hurriedly saluted again to apologize for his irreverence, his face turning red with embarrassment, silently chastising himself for being mesmerized and disrespecting the most sacred Saintess Honglian in his heart.
"Speak, what's the matter?" Her voice remained very gentle, like a feather tickling the Holy Guard's heart, warming him entirely. This warmth wasn't born of mad desire but rather from worshipful fervor.
