At the Dragon Lord's birthday banquet, Jiang Yang had certainly stolen the limelight.
Though it had only been a contest among the juniors, none of the many Purple Mansion cultivators present were blind to such an outstanding youngster.
Mo Yu had set her sights on the young man at first glance, and he had not disappointed her. His subsequent performance had only deepened her interest. If not for Ruo's background, she would truly have liked to summon him into her service and lavish some tender affection on him.
Hearing her words, Jiang Yang immediately understood. Mo Yu must have been one of the Demon Kings who had attended the birthday banquet. They had seen each other without ever becoming acquainted.
At that, Jiang Yang lowered his head slightly and replied modestly:
"You flatter me, Senior. My meager abilities are hardly worth mentioning."
Mo Yu sat upright on a meditation cushion, her black skirt spreading around her like a coiled, beautiful serpent. Despite her kindly manner, there was always an inescapable sense of clammy, clinging dampness about her that stirred a faint aversion.
Jiang Yang supposed this was the pressure of a Purple Mansion cultivator. Simply being a little too close to her inevitably made him uncomfortable.
"So modest. Might you be interested in visiting my Jianqi Pool, young man?"
A smile curved Mo Yu's lips as she softly extended the invitation. Ying Huang turned at the sound, casting an unusual look their way.
Jiang Yang froze at her words. We've had neither dealings in the past nor affection in the present. Why make such an abrupt invitation? Puzzled, he asked:
"What do you mean by that, Senior?"
Mo Yu arched a brow, tracing a slender finger around the rim of her cup:
"Nothing in particular. I simply enjoy the company