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The black-robed man still had one foot firmly planted on Xiang Xiaoyuan’s back, but the gentleness in his expression had vanished, replaced by solemnity.
Under Lin Xun's gaze, which was filled with silent disdain and cold indifference, the black-robed man felt as though his inner sense of dignity was being directly provoked.
Beside him, the graceful woman in the long dress holding a yellow scroll spoke aloud, “In my view, it’s best to take a step back and let things settle peacefully.”
The black-robed man’s lips twitched slightly into a bitter smile. “Miss, could you not shake our morale at a time like this?”
He rubbed his face with both hands, exhaled slowly, and when he looked at Lin Xun again, his gaze had become as sharp as a cold blade. A terrifying murderous intent surged in his eyes, swirling like a vortex.
The woman in the long dress shook her head helplessly and said nothing more. She could already tell that if the black-robed man didn’t overcome this hurdle, his state of mind would likely suffer for it.
The mindset required for cultivating the dao had always been subtle and complex. In particular, for cultivators known for being ruthless in battle and relentless in their pursuit of progress,...
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