The other disciples also did their best to agree with Du Bishu, their nods so slight they were almost imperceptible, though their eyes gave them away.
"Look at you lot! That's enough for today!"
Upon hearing the order that sounded like heavenly music, the group no longer cared to keep lying on the ground. In a flash, they scrambled away.
Soon afterward, thirteen crisp sounds of wooden doors opening and closing came from the distance.
They moved so quickly that they looked nothing like people who had been beaten senseless and exhausted.
Su Ru flexed her wrists in satisfaction, twisted her slim waist, and turned toward the rear hall of Shoujing Hall.
After taking a few steps, she suddenly paused and swept her wandering gaze over the two rows of houses.
"You lot, listen up. In another five years, it'll be the once-in-sixty-years Seven Peaks Martial Arts Tournament. Never mind improving—if you regress, your martial uncle's devilish training will be waiting for you."
Before leaving, she also tossed out a light snort devoid of any real anger.
A moment later.
The thirteen half-closed doors opened one after another. Then, high above where Du Bishu was staring at the sky, thirteen faces appeared, holding back laughter yet filled with concern.
As expected of... true senior brothers and sisters!
Dinnertime.
Inside the dining hall.
All seventeen disciples of Dazhu Peak gathered on either side of the long table. Song Daren sat at the head, while Zhang Xiaofan sat at the very end.
"Little Junior Brother, I'm your Sixth Senior Brother, Du Bishu. Eldest Senior Brother must have told you about me, right?" Du Bishu hooked his thumb back and pointed at his own nose.
"Sixth Senior Brother," Zhang Xiaofan replied respectfully.
"Little Junior Brother, before dinner, how about we make a