The Tragic Master Yue

The grand hall suddenly fell into a profound silence, as if everyone was immersed in a wondrous and graceful atmosphere.

Clap, clap, clap!

The third Princess, dressed in a pink gown, lightly clapped her hands and gracefully stepped into the hall.

“Helpless as the falling flowers, familiar as the returning swallows. Brother Feng’s exceptional talent once again shines before my eyes!”

“Sister Yu, please forgive me! I was inspired by an impulse and whimsically recited a few verses, amusing all,” self-mockingly shook his head, said Lu Suifeng with a smile.

Ziyan seemed oblivious to the appearance of Nangong Yu, still infatuated with the poetry and seemingly grasping something profound.

But it slipped away momentarily, leaving an itching sensation of something on the verge of revelation.