Perhaps at Cao Tingzhu's flattering suggestion, the Brocade-Clad Guards cleverly brought over several clean wooden tables and chairs and set them steadily beneath the eaves by the main entrance.
A pot of coarse tea, steaming faintly, had even been placed on the table.
Chen Xiaojun naturally took the main seat, his fingertips tapping lightly on the tabletop; Chen Mu leaned against the edge of the table with his arms folded; Gu Yuanchao stood respectfully at Chen Xiaojun's side.
A dozen or so meters away, the central field was a picture of order:
Zhu Wuneng performed precise tests and split the teams, while Qiu Qingquan, An Mingyuan, and Ma Liang registered people at temporary tables and chairs. The children lined up before the three of them according to their different martial souls, making things even quieter and more orderly.
Especially the line on Ma Liang's side—it was so silent one could hear a pin drop.
The children who had already finished registering quietly withdrew to the open ground on the left side of the field, sitting cross-legged in groups of three or five to rest. The panic in their eyes gradually faded, leaving only curious glances around them.
Under the eaves on the right, however, the group of young women still stood huddled together. Their haggard faces were hidden in the shadows, and their still-scarred hands were clasped tensely together, forming a stark contrast with the looseness of the youths on the left.
"By the usual rules?" Gu Yuanchao froze, thinking he had misheard.
Then, seeing the calm look in Chen Xiaojun's eyes, he understood and asked, "Young Master wants to... temper his temperament first?"
"Mm." Chen Xiaojun nodded slightly. "A lone wolf that's been roaming the wilderness too long is hard to tame. That wildness is both an advantage