Wang Hao came before Cui Ling Shuang with a grin, continuously sizing up the flower in her hand.
"If you think I'm joking, how about I let you have a taste of my methods?"
"Sure!"
Hearing Flower's words, Wang Hao grew even more excited.
"It's been several thousand years since we last met. I'm really curious what new little tricks you've come up with."
Faced with Wang Hao's eagerness to give it a try, Flower swayed gently. "Forget it. I don't want you knowing my methods for now."
"If you really want to play, I can let Chen Feng play with you."
"How about he goes to your Blood Sea and slashes you with his sword ten thousand years from now?"
"Don't!"
The moment those words left her mouth, Wang Hao panicked.
"That kid's sword shares the same wonderful resemblance as the Sword God's, but the aura on him isn't quite the same as the Sword God's."
"If he slashed me with that sword, wouldn't it hurt me to death?"
"He's just a junior. What are you afraid of?"
"Stop trying to fool me!"
Wang Hao curled his lip and said disdainfully, "Others might not know you, Chen Changsheng, but how could I not?"
"The people you raise are all about charging forward without turning back."
"Forget ten thousand years—even one thousand years, one hundred years, or even one year, I wouldn't agree."
"When people like them undergo bitter cultivation, one year at a critical moment can match several hundred years for others."
"For all I know, they might comprehend some freakishly monstrous thing within a single hour."
"Minor cultivators like us, who slowly grind things out with time, refuse to compare ourselves to dead freaks like them."
Hearing Wang Hao's words, Flower swayed gently. "Since you won't compete with