"Senior Chen Yicheng of Yu Sheng Sword Sect, Zhao Jike of Wanhao City has come to pay his respects to you—"
…
After a day of shouting, Zhao Jike's throat was burning.
When he walked down the cliff, he saw countless burning eyes.
Who could endure more than 300 wails a day and interrupt their chance to comprehend and cultivate?
If it weren't for the rules of this place, Zhao Jike's legs would have been broken.
"Fellow Daoists, Wanhao City's Zhao Jike has come to pay his respects. No, no. Greetings, greetings…" Zhao Jike cupped his hands in front of him, but because he had said it smoothly, he said it as paying his respects.
Everyone was enraged.
Zhao Jike was not the only one who caused public anger. Han Muye also caused it.
At this moment, on the verdant cliff, someone looked down coldly.
"Is this the rising talent of the Sword Dao that Senior Wu Zheng invited?