What Pill Are You Refining? If You're Going to Refine One, Refine Me

"Xuan Yi, what do you mean by this? I am over a hundred years old, and my disciple is right in front of me. How can you humiliate me like this?!"

"Heh, over a hundred years old? Yao Chen, are you praising yourself for being young? You are merely a junior who has only just passed a hundred. Why put on such an act before this concubine?"

"You—"

Old Man Yao's face turned pale, and just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt an invisible force descend upon him. His soul body was instantly restrained, and he was flung halfway through the air, unable to move an inch.

"This concubine once naively believed that as long as you were willing to return, there would still be room to mend everything."

Her refined voice, as gentle as tea, slowly rang out. Xuan Yi extended her delicate hand and lightly caressed Old Man Yao's face.

"But now, it seems this concubine was terribly mistaken."

Her expression was indifferent, yet her tone carried deep resentment and sorrow.

"Even if Han Feng is gone, you will still take other disciples. Your disciples will marry, and then you will have disciples' descendants. There will never be a place for this concubine. Since that is the case, do not blame this concubine for making her own decision."

Cold sweat dripped from Old Man Yao's brow. His physical body had yet to recover, and his cultivation was completely crushed by hers. He had no room whatsoever to resist, and a wave of grief and indignation rose within him.

He, Yao Chen, had enjoyed a lifetime of glory, only to lose all face before his disciple because of a woman. What bitter irony!

As expected, Hun Ruoruo, who had already been rather interested in this,