Chapter 116: The Style of Painting is Wrong
Under the night sky, a thin mist floated on Peony Steet like silk, floating against the clear water channel.
On the second floor of Peony B&B, Du Sixian leaned against the window, staring at the canal in a daze.
Earlier, An Qing told her that she was a genius. She believed it, and she even thought she would be able to master the spells on the scroll with ease.
However, when she actually tried, she realised that perhaps An Qing was just lying to make her feel better.
From 3 in the afternoon to 9 in the evening, she couldn’t even stimulate her powers.
Mantras are like mathematics in the world of urban legends. If you can’t decipher it, then it’s all gibberish.
Du Sixian herself is also stubborn. If she believes in something, she will fight for it.
She practised the mantras until she felt strangely exhausted, and An Qing carried her back to her residence.
When they parted, An Qing’s hesitation to speak made her suffer a lot.