This was a woman about twenty-seven or eight years old, her long purple hair cascading down her waist, revealing a stunningly beautiful face, her eyes sparkling, yet those vertical pupils carried a hint of indescribable evil and indifference.
Zhang Yinchao was taken aback after hearing this, then immediately laughed, "Oh? Is this the thousand-year-old fine wine passed down from the Lost Paradise, yet it still doesn't catch the princess's fancy?"
The woman laughed.
Oddly, when she laughed, the initial sense of beauty instantly vanished, giving off a feeling of eeriness and bloodthirst.
"Does Zhang Shao know what the most beautiful wine on earth is brewed from?"
"What?"
"It's souls!" Upon saying this, the woman grew more excited, "And it must be the souls of powerful cultivators!"
"Souls?" Zhang Yinchao was slightly startled.
"That's right, souls!" The woman nodded, "In our Demon Dragon Palace, there's such a fine wine!"