Murong An blinked his eyes, and when he looked again, a gracefully erect and beautiful girl was already sitting opposite the little old man, holding the tea that had been passed to her and taking a delicate sip.
"Delicious, isn't it? This tea is a tribute; the whole country only produces such a small jar each year, and it's all here. You can't find this outside."
The little old man proudly poured another cup for Su Li.
"Blood Mist Tea, is this thing really that rare? I'm already tired of it."
Little old man: "...."
Murong An: "...." The bastards below him, he knew they were only fooling those above.
The little old man smiled again and said, "Then take a look here, is there anything that catches your eye? Feel free to take it with you."
Murong An also looked over with bright, interested eyes.
The treasures of the world all converged in the Imperial Palace; he, as the Emperor, could say that his palace was the place with the most and the finest rarities under heaven.
