His dark hair fluttering, he gripped the Clear Shadow Sword and rose straight from the ground. Upon waking, he noticed a dead leaf on his shoulder, frowned slightly, and gently removed it.
Only upon seeing that he was still dressed in a blue robe did he nod in satisfaction.
Fang Yang naturally caught these movements and breathed a small sigh of relief.
Yes, this was his disciple!
Cool and proud, unlike just now, when he had immediately tried to strip his master and spend a candlelit wedding night with him.
Yet, the next moment...
Clang!
A dull sound rang out. Fang Yang looked up blankly, only to discover that Ye Qinghong, Azure Shadow Sword in hand, had slammed its sheath onto his head.
Then his eldest disciple pressed his lips together, his face expressionless, and somehow produced several red candles from his sleeve. He casually tossed them onto the ground, where they slowly lit, their deep flames flickering.
Only after finishing all this did Ye Qinghong nod in satisfaction and turn to drag Fang Yang by the collar into the middle of the candles.
Instead, he saw Fang Yang staring at him with a dark expression and froze. Bewilderment showed in his cool eyes, as though he wondered why Fang Yang had not fallen yet.
But... this posed no difficulty for him at all.
He simply grabbed the Clear Shadow Sword again, wielding it like a club, and swung another blow at Fang Yang's head.
Whoosh!
Fang Yang waved his hand. A gust of astral wind swept past, and he caught Qinghong's Azure Shadow Sword on the spot.
Then, looking at his foolish-faced eldest disciple, who was ready to forcibly take his own master anytime, anywhere, he extended a finger and pressed it against Ye Qinghong's brow.
"Disciple, your master