"Yang Liu, isn't that one of your people? What, aren't you afraid of angering the elders?"
In the distance, someone spoke up, questioning Yang Liu, who stood nearby with flaming-red hair. He had pushed the new cultivation art to the tenth level and, ever since entering Prodigy Hall, had remained firmly within it; his seniority had already exceeded fifty terms.
"What do you mean, my people? We're all fellow cultivators. We've only exchanged a few words, that's all."
Yang Liu gave the speaker an indifferent glance. "Besides, exchanges and sparring between disciples are perfectly commonplace. Over these eight years, have there been few disciples who died in sparring matches? What is there for the elders to be angry about?"
"Heh, you're carved from the exact same mold as your father. Always talking in circles. No fun at all." The speaker shook his head.
Yang Liu swept his gaze over him. "I'm talking in circles? Heh. Clearly, every last one of you is curious to death, but when it comes time to act, you all tie your own hands and feet, terrified of offending some elder. Now that someone has finally acted, you rush over at once—that much is understandable—but then you beat around the bush to talk about someone else. So tell me, Liu Ze, which of us is actually the one talking in circles?"
Liu Ze smiled at that, then said, "What do you think he'll do? Is he just putting on a mysterious act, or does he truly have the goods?"
Yang Liu remained as calm as ever. "Whether he's putting on an act or has real substance, we'll know soon enough. We've waited this long already. Why rush over such a short while?"
Liu Ze laughed. "I'm just curious. He's a legendary student, after all. On the