Feng Cheng's expression twisted in pain, clearly stung by He Qing's words which made the veins on his forehead pulse visibly. Although he usually maintained a calm demeanor, the truth was that because of a poor fit with his body, over-exaggerated movements and expressions were genuinely tiring for him to perform, hence his placid facade.
Now, hearing He Qing's words, how could his heart not be filled with hatred!
He Qing remained vigilant, watching his every movement, only to find that the entire process seemed like a low-grade parlor trick. The poses were bizarre and excessively difficult, yet failed to stir any movement in nature's spiritual energy—a classic case of much ado about nothing.
She was at a loss for words, unsure what to say, and could only continue to pretend she hadn't seen anything.
At that moment, Feng Cheng brought his hands together forcefully, and his expression relaxed accordingly.
