Wang Lu wiped the wine from the corner of his mouth, burped, and breathed out a wine-scented gust carrying the aroma of Daughter Red Wine. "This wine... sure packs a punch!" He smacked his lips, feeling as if his throat were burning.
Xuan Mo moved away with a look of disgust. "Senior Brother, could you pay more attention to your image? You're a true disciple of Lingjian Sect, yet you look like a drunkard."
Wang Lu shot him a sidelong glance. "What the hell do you know? This is called appreciating wine! Your master, that old hag, was punishing me on the surface, but in reality, she was worried about me. She was afraid I'd get hurt fighting, so she deliberately sent me this divine medicine for healing injuries."
Xuan Mo rolled his eyes. "Your skin is really thick. You can force an explanation out of anything." What he actually thought was, Wang Lu really hasn't had anything good to drink. His master may look pretty and be a Golden Core cultivator, but how could that stuff possibly taste good?
"Heh-heh." Wang Lu was not ashamed in the slightest; instead, he wore it as a badge of honor. "The thick-skinned get to eat their fill, while the thin-skinned get nothing. Speaking of which, you really hit hard just now. If I hadn't been tough as nails, you would've beaten me half to death."
"Likewise." Xuan Mo rubbed his shoulder. "Senior Brother's turtle-fist was quite a lot to handle too."
The two were busy praising each other when the training ground's gate was suddenly kicked open. A burly man with a face full of flesh walked in, followed by a group of menacing disciples.
"Which one of you is Wang Lu? Get your ass out here!" the man roared, his voice