Both of them had already given it their all.
In the dark of night, Fang Yang stood in black robes, his ink-black hair dancing wildly against the night sky. He simply watched the two women before him with a cold gaze, a thousand feelings stirring within him.
They truly were master and disciple, and truly worthy of Shadow Moon Convent.
Their scriptures were unfathomably profound, and their coordination was just as seamless.
They could actually buff one another, making each other's scriptures increasingly powerful.
When dispelling killing intent, they achieved twice the results with half the effort.
"Demon Venerable, this slave still has some matters to attend to. Please allow me to withdraw."
Huang Fuling's voice was gentle. In the end, she was still unaccustomed to confronting her master face-to-face.
Especially... after their earlier competition.
"You may go."
Fang Yang waved his hand, then gently stroked Huang Fuling's head just as she was about to leave.
A rare trace of warmth appeared in his deep, cold eyes.
Ever since transmigrating, he had been surrounded by enemies on all sides, unable to tell friend from foe.
Danger lurked everywhere.
Yet from beginning to end, Huang Fuling had been like a moth flying into a flame, obeying him unconditionally. Her affection had even reached its maximum value.
She was willing to become the lowliest slave for his sake.
He did feel considerable tenderness toward Huang Fuling.
That inconspicuous gesture, however, made Huang Fuling's eyes light up. A satisfied smile appeared on her alluring face, and countless stars seemed to glitter in her eyes.
Then she immediately flew off into the distance, though her posture looked somewhat odd.
Watching her wayward disciple leave, Gong Yajun could not help revealing a little envy in her eyes.
As the Abbess of Shadow Moon Convent and