As Elder Lei’s words drifted down, Nangong Wumeng’s movements froze in place.
Then, even though she was already wearing that disguise mask made personally by the Gongsun family, a flush of crimson still quickly spread across her face.
Her eyes widened, her gaze averted, and she stammered, “Wh-what are you saying?!”
“Who, who said I wanted to marry him?”
“I-I was just—”
Elder Lei chuckled warmly, “Otherwise, how could someone with such a lazy temperament like you, when rebuilding the Yin-Yang Rotation Sect, still be able to roam across the great rivers and mountains, relying on that absurd good luck of yours, and uncover so many places?!”
Nangong Wumeng let out a short huff.
She set down her tea and took a sip.
“Is that true?!”
Elder Lei saw Nangong Wumeng’s calm and composed expression, and yet her palms were trembling so badly that afterimages seemed to multiply, causing the tea inside her cup to quake and ripple, crashing against the sides, splashing layers of liquid outwards, even soaking the sleeves of her robe.
Elder Lei shook his head and didn’t expose her further.