Sword cultivators naturally focused on the sword. Even as the sect master, He Jiantian rarely drank the Bodhi spiritual tea. After all, he could not afford it.
The last time he drank it was a few years ago. He Jiantian remembered clearly that there were only a few leaves floating in the teacup, unlike now when it was full.
But what was he seeing now? Ye Xuan and Shen Changling was drinking the Bodhi spiritual tea like it was water. Even if one's families owned mines, they wouldn't dare to be so impetuous.
He Jiantian's eyes turned red with envy. He wished he was sitting there instead of Shen Changling.
Shen Changling was so engrossed in his drink that he didn't notice the burning gaze behind him. He suddenly felt a pat on his shoulder. Without turning his head, he snapped, "Who is it!"
However, the person who patted his shoulder seemed to not get the hint. He was still patting his shoulder, as if he would never give up until he turned back.
