As soon as he finished speaking, Si Lei slammed the cup on the table: "Don't talk nonsense. You should read less of those tales."
"Huh? How did you know I read it in a storybook?" Si Yu asked in surprise.
"What's all this commotion about?" A white tiger head peered over curiously.
"We were just chatting for a bit, talking about the decrees His Majesty issued during his council meetings." The four gossipy celestial officials immediately shut their mouths, but their eyes couldn't help but drift towards the little white tiger's neck.
What is that?
"Boring." Upon hearing that it was a government decree, Mo Xuanshuang walked uninterestedly to her seat and sat down. "Why hasn't Father arrived yet?"
Mo Yunlan, who was rubbing her sore wrist, suddenly stopped her gaze on his neck: "What the hell are you carrying?"
Mo Xuanshuang proudly raised her chin: "This was given to me by Ruoruo, a bow that Father made by hand. Father even praised me for looking cute wearing it."
The round, white tiger cub, wearing a small red bow, is indeed quite adorable.
But the little white tiger has also lost most of its majesty.
Mo Yunlan chuckled: "Not bad, your brain is well-suited for wearing."
Mo Xuanshuang didn't catch Mo Yunlan's sarcasm and looked smug.
Mo Jinyan moved away from Mo Xuanshuang with disdain. He yawned and looked at Mo Yunlan with sleepy eyes: "Why are you rubbing your wrist?"
"I've been practicing drawing talismans too diligently these past few days, and my wrists are a bit tired." He had been copying books for two days and two nights straight, holding two pens in one hand without sleep or rest, so it would be strange if his wrists didn't hurt.
Mo Yunlan glanced at Mo Wuyu; he would remember this grudge.
Mo Wuyu lowered his eyes and sat there quietly without saying a word, appearing somewhat out of place with the lively atmosphere of the others.
"The Divine Lord has arrived!" The celestial official's voice rang out.
Mo Wuyu then raised his eyes, stood up, and clasped his hands in a salute: "Welcome, Father."
"Rise." Mo Yong walked in slowly, but the immortals couldn't help but look at the person beside him.
The god, who always kept to himself, was holding the hand of a little girl who was no more than three or four years old.
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