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The three of them held their newly forged weapons, excitement written all over their faces, reluctant to put them down.
Ye Feng clasped his fists and bowed deeply. “Uncle Meng, we three brothers will never forget this kindness. If you ever need anything, just say the word, and we’ll help without hesitation. Tomorrow is the day of the wager, though, so we should head back now.”
Meng Jiangchu waved his hand and laughed. “Alright. When you get back, tell that brat not to worry about Wanshu. It won’t take long.”
The three stepped onto the spatial tunnel leading back to the Daxia Sword Sect, their eyes filled with gratitude.
Ye Feng had always carried nothing more than an ordinary magical...
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