Misty Three Beauties

The two men both looked to be in their twenties and wore Misty Hall attire. The one in front had a thin mustache at the corners of his mouth, slightly sallow skin, and stood half a head taller than Zhang Xiaohu. The one behind him was utterly ordinary, the sort who would vanish the moment he was thrown into a crowd. Yet Zhang Xiaohua smiled as soon as he saw him. Wasn't he the very man who had spied on Huanxi Mountain Villa from the summit of Shixin Peak that day?

The two did not use qinggong. They merely followed a faint, winding goat trail step by step toward one side of the mountain ridge. It was nearly dark already—what were they doing here?

Seeing that they were Misty Hall disciples, Zhang Xiaohua did not wish to be seen. Just as he was about to form a hand seal and escape underground, a voice drifted into his ears. "Senior Brother Ding, there's something... I don't know whether I should say it or not."

"What is it?" Senior Brother Ding sounded somewhat impatient. With a cold snort, he said, "Other than Zhang Xiaohu becoming the chief senior disciple, what else could make you hesitate like this?"

"Huh?" Zhang Xiaohua was secretly astonished. The ancients were right: no coincidence, no story. I just happened to flee at random, yet I ran into Second Brother's rival. My luck really is good. Hmm, let's see what tricks this fellow has up his sleeve, so I can warn Second Brother and let him prepare early. We don't bully others, but we can't let others bully us either!

Good grief—Zhang Xiaohua was thinking about how he did not bully people? He had the nerve to think that?

Sure enough, the disciple behind him gave a dry