With Your Blow, We've Given Up the Struggle

In the deep of night,

at Xuanzheng Temple,

the cold wind howled outside.

Inside, the charcoal fire burned, but still, the young Taoists were bundled in thick cotton clothes.

Despite years of cultivation, few could draw the Teleportation Talisman.

The three Ming could manage a few, but they quickly became sweaty and breathless after only a few attempts.

Nanli sighed helplessly, "You three have practiced for decades, how can you not compare to a mere youth?"

With He Qinian intermittently drawing, he had already completed ten talismans in this hour.

The three Ming exchanged glances.

Ming Chong spoke up, "Your Highness, you're not even seventeen, yet you can draw the Transfer Talisman. We, for our entire lives, might struggle to reach your level. With your prowess, we've given up the fight."

Ming Qin added, "It's not giving up; it's having self-awareness."