"You're going too?"
Fang Yong looked at the young man before him, his eyes full of surprise.
This trip to the Prefecture City was for the Martial Examination—a gathering of geniuses with hopes of reaching Fifth Rank.
What was someone whose future was already set in stone going there for?
Jiang Ping was equally surprised. This little genius seemed to have recovered his usual arrogance, his face once more full of sharp angles.
"Your words are much like your face."
At that moment, a sweet voice rang out.
Jiang Ping glanced sideways and saw an unfamiliar woman approaching.
She was very tall, draped in a robe of pure white. Her fair, oval face carried a touch of heroic spirit, somewhat at odds with her sweet voice.
"No, your words are even more off-putting than your face."
The woman gathered her hair, which had been lifted by the wind, then added another remark.
Fang Yong froze at once. He understood.
She was saying his looks were poor, and his words even worse.
Yet he did not dare retort. Her talent stood on par with his, but she had not started late; she was roughly as strong as the two of them, Song Yuanshan included.
"You must be Jiang Ping, whose comprehension surpasses even Chen An's by a fair margin?"
The tall woman showed none of a young woman's shyness. She circled Jiang Ping, sizing him up from head to toe, then nodded.
"Tall and well-proportioned, and far better-looking than that youngster. You're impossible to find off-putting."
"..." Fang Yong.
"Wei Rou. You should have heard my name," the woman said.
Jiang Ping drew a small breath. A delicate fragrance entered his nose, clearing his mind somewhat. He replied, "It rings like thunder in my ears."
Wei Rou was Yang City's other