The music gradually stopped, and the girl finished her dance. She proudly raised her head to look at the dais, only to see Nalan Jing with his eyes closed, taking a nap. Instantly, her eyes filled with tears, and turned red as she ran back to her seat, unable to resist secretly wiping her tears.
The other young ladies noticed, and a sneer flashed in their eyes. They scoffed; it was her fault, how could she have the nerve to cry?
And so, the young ladies began to perform their talents — some played music, some danced with swords, some composed poetry, some painted... Anyway, the scene was lively and beautiful.
Nalan Jing, however, never once lifted his gaze to look at them. On the other hand, Mu Qianyue watched with great enthusiasm, thinking, hmm, not bad, not bad, they were all quite good, comparable to a world tour concert, quite splendid indeed.
"Is there anyone else who wants to perform?" Mu Qianyue asked when no one had stood up for a long time.
