Everyone recognized the Daoist robe worn with an indifferent expression.
A dot of cinnabar, a longsword, he remained impregnable. Everyone remembered how, just months ago on the sword platform at the Southern Martial Assembly, he had strolled, driving one opponent after another to despair. Yet, at the height of Shengjing's frenzied celebration of his name, he entered the Sword Academy and never showed his face again.
Even now, he still possessed the ethereal bearing of a hermit from the mystic mountains, the Subtle Thunder Technique, the Tai Chi Sword Stance—no one believed that the suppressed Xuanmen of the same realm could withstand the Eighth Level... unless this person was Yan Feiqing.
Hefu ranked ninth. He was already among the top cultivators in the Vein Realm.
But almost no one recognized the youth who walked out after him.
It was a very unfamiliar face, as well as an unfamiliar figure... Only a very few recognized him.
"Is that... Pei Ye?"
