At nineteen, Yu Nianzhen was an unparalleled sword.
He was tall, his body was lean, his face was all sharp edges, and his brows were curved swords.
Most of all, he exuded a regal aura with a hint of sheathed danger.
Unfortunately, he wore a red robe embroidered with silver flowers and carried a tan gourd on his waist!
This contradiction of temperament and dressing created a discordant image that was difficult to accept.
'Master Yang is too mean.' Jiang Yue thought as he looked at Yu Nianzhen.
His lips curled in amusement, but he didn't dare to laugh.
Instead, he focused all his attention on Yu Nianzhen's expressionless face.
"Are you happy to see me?" He asked.
"Happy."
Jiang Yue smiled, and his eyes filled with mischief.
"Why don't I see it?"
Yu Nianzhen was silent for a moment.
