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Li Qinghong paused briefly as a figure rose into the air, wearing flowing robes and clasping their hands in salute. "This lowly one greets Your Grace."
Zong Yan, who had been living comfortably in recent years, now carried himself with a confidence that starkly contrasted with his former servile demeanor as a subordinate to the demon clans. His eyes shone brightly, and his posture was upright, although faint traces of his past struggles remained.
Li Qinghong, ever courteous, responded politely to Zong Yan and listened as he meticulously recited the island's expenses down to the last detail.
Zong Yan nervously finished his report. The accounts naturally showed deficits—after all, the small island had no productive output, and the resources of the sea were dominated by the dragon clans, leaving others no room to intervene. As Zong Yan spoke,...
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