The man's forehead oozed fine beads of sweat as he threw the Short Spear to the ground, clasping his hands together and saying:
"The junior, Gongsun Jing, has seen the senior."
That person seemed to glance at him casually, and Gongsun Jing immediately felt as if a terrifying pressure was assaulting him like an overwhelming wave, his face paling. He didn't know how much time had passed when he seemed to hear the man hum indifferently. His consciousness finally returned to reality, his legs went weak, and he almost knelt on the ground, gasping like an ox, with sweat pouring down his forehead.
A cold voice arose, seemingly laced with mockery, though it was unclear whether it was amused or displeased:
"Not bad, you do have some backbone."
Gongsun Jing, panting heavily, replied:
"Se, senior flatters me..."
Catching his breath, he didn't dare to look at the man in the blue shirt, suppressing the terror in his heart, and spoke in a low voice:
