Lin Zitong was fourteen this year, not yet an adult.
Even when he fought others in sword duels, he was still struggling in the minor leagues.
Moreover, Lin Zitong was used to having a makeup artist apply heavy makeup to his face before going onstage—makeup that could be called modern disguise techniques. He would then put on black contact lenses and use a codename as his alias.
After all that, even his own father probably would not recognize him.
Now that the bare-faced Lin Zitong had suddenly appeared, Chu Fan had no idea who he really was. He thought Lin Zitong was just an ordinary amateur enthusiast.
Only...
Just as Chu Fan was about to ask him to leave, he suddenly noticed that the youth had a Spirit Sword behind him and another in his hand.
Lin Zitong did not spare Chu Fan a glance.
He hurried over and respectfully presented an unusually fine Spirit Sword to Zhang Guangmu.
"Senior, everything at the park has been taken care of."
"Also, this is the sword you wanted."
As he spoke, Lin Zitong held the sword out to Zhang Guangmu with both hands.
Chu Fan's strength might not have been anything special, but he still had a good eye.
The scabbard was made of python hide and inlaid with seven-star gemstones. The red tassel on the hilt was also made of valuable material that could conduct blood and prevent slipping.
Even without being able to see the craftsmanship of the blade itself clearly, one could vaguely sense its strength from the spirituality radiating off it.
If the sword's quality matched its scabbard, then in ancient times, four words would have described it perfectly—priceless beyond measure!
As the Sect Leader of Feihong, even Chu Fan did not dare claim that his own bonded