Yanjing City... Within the Beiming Mansion...
Gazing at the sky where countless strong warriors fought against Qing Fu. The battle became increasingly fierce. Everyone in the Beiming Mansion below silently observed.
Beiming Yu, sitting cross-legged on the pavilion, showed no expression on her face, quietly sitting atop, her hands gently caressing an ancient harp.
A person, playing expressionlessly without joy or sorrow.
As if all this before her had nothing to do with her. However, suddenly a sharp white beam shot down from the sky, aiming to strike Beiming Yu.
Regardless of whether Beiming Yu felt anxious, everyone around her at the Beiming Mansion held their breath with worry.
"Mother, be careful!"
Beiming Huang shouted loudly, furrowing his brows.
But all this seemed calm and collected in Beiming Yu's eyes. As the beam was about to hit her forehead, her slender and fair fingers slightly moved, plucking a string on the outermost part of the ancient harp.
