After a stick of incense had passed.
The Flood Dragon Imperial Chariot came to a stop.
Ye Xuan slowly opened his eyes.
"Mr. Ye, we'll have to go on foot from here," Mo Xiangyu's voice came from outside, laced with a trace of apology.
Upon hearing this, Ye Xuan said nothing, stood up, and walked out of the Imperial Chariot.
Facing him was Mo Xiangyu, who bowed deeply.
Clad in a purple robe, his handsome and extraordinary demeanor gave off an inexplicably close sensation at first glance.
Of course, Ye Xuan was indifferent to it.
Such tricks were mere frivolities.
Casting a casual glance at Mo Xiangyu, Ye Xuan stepped down from the Imperial Chariot, hands in his pockets, and indifferently said, "Let's go."
Only then did Mo Xiangyu dare to lift his head and look at Ye Xuan.
When he clearly saw Ye Xuan, Mo Xiangyu couldn't hide his surprise.
Even though he had long known that Ye Xuan was a youth, the reality of seeing him still shocked him.
