Owing so much money, and still having the nerve to blush.
Yuchi praised him speechlessly: "Impressive, impressive! Did you eat four million taels worth of elixirs all by yourself? How can you eat so much? Even my disciples at the Spirit Storage Stage can't eat as much as you."
Feng Zhaoyang continued to scratch his head.
When he was getting bombarded by the two Nascent Soul cultivators in front of him, his ears turned red.
He and Yuchi stood on a mountain peak, casually chatting. For a battle where the outcome was predetermined, there wasn't any real point in watching. These Nascent Soul cultivators probably never expected they'd become live wallpaper during two people's conversation.
"Probably because my Ninth-Grade Talent is fake." Feng Zhaoyang chuckled.
... You're fake yourself; you're actually Seventh-Grade Talent.
