"Dear disciple, how about this sword technique from your master?"
On the official road, an old man dressed in grey was wielding a long and straight tree branch in his hand, briskly cutting off a foxtail grass at the roadside, and showing off to a young man next to him with a satisfied expression.
The young man next to him remained silent, with no expression on his face. He ignored him and walked forward.
The young man was Wu Xingyun, who left Gu Yang half a year ago and has been wandering around.
The old man couldn't resist shaking his head and sighing, "The world is declining. Back in the day, when I was young, I risked my life to sneak a peek at others practicing their sword technique to learn a trick or two. You younger folks really do not appreciate the good conditions you have."
Wu Xingyun couldn't help but retort, "Senior, please stop teasing this junior. I already have a master, so I can't really acknowledge you as my master."