The next day, at Baopu Peak, in the Martial Pavilion.
This place is intended for disciples to spar, but today the doors are tightly closed, and only four people stand inside.
Zhang Chuxi wore a white dress today, with the waist cinched high, accentuating her slender and elegant figure. Her black hair was tied up high, and her small face looked dignified.
Indeed a pretty girl.
"Humph! So young and already always dressing up, with no heart for the path!"
Chen Ye thought to himself.
He naturally harbors bias against Zhang Chuxi, for she bullies his disciple.
Aunt Lan stood by her side, dressed in a simple Taoist robe, with a stern face:
"Guardian Chen, the rules are set. In a duel between juniors, one must bear the consequences of life and death unless one side admits defeat. Others must not interfere. Please remember this."
Chen Ye's gaze fell on his little disciple.
Today, Qing Jun also wore a neat outfit, eager to try — like a lively little leopard.
Good!
