The long-haired woman's voice was soft, her question curious.
At that moment, the group was climbing the mountain, chatting in pairs or small groups.
But as soon as these words were spoken,
the air suddenly went quiet.
Most people's gazes unanimously turned toward Zhao Lingfei.
At this moment, Zhao Lingfei had drifted away from the crowd, walking alone at the edge of the mountain path, slightly tilting her head, lost in admiration of the delicate Purple-clothed Flowers, her white robe starkly contrasting with the crimson-colored flower forest.
The onlookers had varying expressions, but it seemed that not many showed signs of surprise.
It must be that many people within the residence had already heard the rumors, yet they had never been confirmed by the person involved.
Ning Ying, who was casually talking with someone, suddenly stopped speaking, turned her head, her beautiful eyes fixed on the silent Zhao Lingfei,
and began to size her up carefully.