A Slap in the Face

What was this called?

This was called seizing control!

Yin Jiuyou had clearly been the one to invite Lin Xiaosu, yet now his senior brother had jumped out to take charge.

And his reasoning was quite sound.

Back then, Yin Jiuyou had indeed represented the Yin-Yang Monastery.

That tied Yang Jiulie into the matter as well.

Moreover, Yang Jiulie was the monastery head. In other words, officially speaking, Yang Jiulie was Yin Jiuyou's superior.

That was also a fact.

With a single sentence, he had reduced Yin Jiuyou's presence to the bare minimum.

How could Yin Jiuyou accept that willingly?

Yet he had no grounds to argue. This was an official occasion, and official occasions had their rules.

Delight appeared on Lin Xiaosu's face. "Since both heads of your monastery have reached a consensus, nothing could be better. Shall we get to the matter at hand?"

"You speak plainly and decisively, Young Master Lin. I appreciate that style!" Yin Jiuyou broke into a smile. "Please, sit!"

The two sat down on the platform.

"We live humbly in these mountains and have only plain tea to offer. Please, have some!" Yin Jiuyou raised his hand, and two cups of tea flew toward Lin Xiaosu and Feng Ji.

Feng Ji raised her slender hand and caught hers with light, graceful ease.

That catch resembled a phoenix spreading its wings, with a faint hint of Sword Dao.

Lin Xiaosu employed no dazzling technique. He merely tapped a finger lightly against the platform, and the cup settled neatly in front of his finger.

It was a refined, courteous gesture.

Yet it also revealed his current cultivation.

Both monastery heads felt a slight stir in their hearts.

Kun Cang had no shortage of outstanding talents, but someone so young with such attainments was still rare.