The rustling sound of soft boots crushing fallen leaves arose, the stark silhouette of the figure gradually becoming clear, as the Ancient Sword Emotion Slayer was firmly pressed in its sheath by a pale hand, its edge silent and still.
In the thinning night, Su Jing approached Ning Feiyan, her voice cold as shattered ice, "You've got quite the nerve to deceive my Senior Sister."
Her eyes were a cold black, questioning, yet there was no hint of murderous intent in her frosty demeanor.
Ning Feiyan couldn't decide how long this woman had been there.
If she had seen the whole affair, given the stubbornness typical of the Taixuan Sect, it would be unreasonable for her not to draw her sword and intervene promptly.
But judging by her tone and appearance, it didn't seem like she'd witnessed much.
After much thought, Ning Feiyan found herself increasingly unable to comprehend what role this Young Sect Master of the Taixuan Sect was truly playing.
