Jing Shao stared at the hand that kept patting his shoulder. Every word the young man spoke drilled into his ears, while the veins at his temples throbbed so violently they looked ready to burst through his skin.
What nonsense was he spouting?
Praising that Blood Butcher was one thing, but he actually dared to insult the Mohist School in public!
I am a grandmaster of the Mohist School. Why would I lower myself to that so-called Mohist Pavilion and humbly beg to learn some technique?
"Today, I—"
Before he could finish, True Essence suddenly erupted from within Jing Shao. Several mechanisms beneath his wide sleeves activated at once, and gleaming shadows shot forth like venomous snakes leaving their holes, slashing straight for the young man's vital points.
Guan Han had long noticed that something was wrong with Jing Shao's expression. Seeing him strike without warning, he immediately flashed forward to intercept.
The clanging of metal was swallowed by the Iron Dragon Horse's thunderous "clank-clank" rumble. Before the deflected hidden weapons could hit the floor, Guan Han swiftly swept them into his sleeve.
A moment later, the young man remained completely unscathed. He merely glanced around in puzzlement.
Sensing nothing unusual, he assumed Jing Shao was simply a little emotional and smiled as he continued persuading him, "If you manage to enter the Mohist Pavilion someday, we'll count as fellow disciples!
"When that time comes, be sure to look me up. I'll treat you to a few cups of good wine!"
At those words, the veins on Jing Shao's forehead throbbed even harder. Their taut bulge made one wonder whether they might explode outright in the next instant.
Fortunately, the young man had enough tact. Seeing the old man's expression grow increasingly agitated, and fearing he might truly be worked