"Yi'an?"
Zhao Feng paused at this, then could not help looking at the boy beside them, who remained utterly oblivious.
Wang Yi'an was helping Bu Chan clear the table, gathering bowls, plates, chopsticks, and the like.
Though only seven or eight years old, he went about the work quite capably.
He was nothing like the rambunctious boy he had been at the drinking table.
Zhao Feng could not help nodding slightly.
Seeing this, Wang Ba quickly said:
"Yi'an, come here."
Wang Yi'an walked over, puzzled.
"Dad, Uncle Zhao."
Zhao Feng nodded. Without standing on ceremony, he immediately raised a hand and rested it on Wang Yi'an's head.
Seeing this, Bu Chan quickly stopped working and looked toward Wang Yi'an and Zhao Feng.
Wang Yi'an's eyes were full of confusion.
Soon, Zhao Feng withdrew his hand. A trace of satisfaction in his eyes, he asked Wang Yi'an quietly:
"Yi'an, would you be willing to become my disciple?"
Wang Yi'an froze, but did not answer immediately. Instead, a flicker of thought passed through his eyes before he asked in return:
"Uncle Zhao, if I become your disciple, what skills can you teach me?"
Both Zhao Feng and Wang Ba were taken aback.
Wang Ba flew into a rage:
"You little brat! How dare you speak to your Uncle Zhao-"
But Zhao Feng gently stopped Wang Ba and looked at Wang Yi'an.
"You want to learn skills?"
He casually pointed, and a streak of Sword Light silently flew from his fingertip.
Before Wang Yi'an, it instantly split into countless Sword Shadows.
The Sword Shadows crisscrossed, shrouding the entire sky above Myriad Laws Peak as though blotting out the heavens and the sun, magnificent and majestic beyond words.
At the sight, Wang Yi'an's eyes widened involuntarily, instantly lighting up.
"I want to learn that!