The refined man gave a couple of dry coughs and whispered in explanation, "Old Yao wants the snakeskin shed by a three-hundred-year-old white python!"
"Oh!" Huo Dantong sneered inwardly. Snakeskin was just snakeskin—why call it a dragon's molt? He couldn't even speak plainly.
Yet she didn't actually say this aloud.
Chapter 127