Chen Yang's sudden shift in tone plunged the atmosphere into a deep silence.
Chen Changsheng, Chen Botong.
These two names had long become taboo, especially for the upper echelons of the Nine Sects, rarely mentioned.
Yet, this guy in front of us just blurted them out without hesitation?
As a result, Zhong Yaoyuan's expression changed several times, especially a pair of eyes, flickering with an eerie light.
Silence.
The atmosphere was bizarre.
Only the teapot above the small stove continuously spewed hot steam, and the wind and snow howled outside the pavilion.
Chen Yang took a sip of tea, his movements unhurried, as if fully absorbed in the pure fragrance of the strong tea.
"Who exactly are you?"
A moment later, Zhong Yaoyuan picked up the teapot, refilled his cup, and said indifferently, "To have come this far, you must be no ordinary person."
"After all, so-called prodigies, apart from inherent gifts, also rely heavily on later cultivation."
