The golden Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly pulled into an estate by the shore of West Lake, and the Empress turned to Zhao'er with a light laugh, "Come, join me for a cup of tea."
Zhao'er said nothing, getting out of the car with the Empress.
The chilly early winter breeze wrinkled the clear waters of West Lake, the shimmering waves reflecting on the faces of two peerless beauties, making them seem like fairies of a lost world, captivating and ethereal.
The Empress sipped the tea prepared by the maid and smiled at Zhao'er, "This tea has a unique flavor, you should try a sip."
"Boring."
The Empress was slightly startled, then chuckled and shook her head, "You should say 'not interested,' not 'boring.'"
"No difference."
In some respects, Zhao'er had her own stubbornness.
And to Dong Fangxiao, also known as Shadow Thirteen, peering from outside the pavilion, everything seemed exceptionally eerie.
Indeed, eerie was the only way to describe it.
