"Your servant is fearful." He Xingyun bowed deeply, speaking softly, "Your servant dares not harbor any disrespectful thoughts. I am merely concerned about Your Majesty's health and have specially prepared medicinal food..."
Ying Ji's gaze remained unlifted, spiritual power swirling at her fingertips, conjuring a ghostly flame that shot forth, charring the food container on the ground.
Her brows furrowed into a frost-like hue: "Put away your meaningless delusions."
The falling ghostly flame circled mid-air into a sharp Flame Blade, spinning through the air, severing He Xingyun's arm at the shoulder mercilessly.
As fresh blood splattered, He Xingyun's body stiffened and convulsed in pain, teeth clenched and trembling, yet he uttered not a sound.
His body relaxed suddenly, crashing heavily to the ground, eyes showing traces of sorrow as he gazed at his severed arm.
