In Qing Ming City.
Lu Ming and Xiao Bai were comfortably enjoying life. It was only when Xia Yu and the group came knocking at their door that Lu Ming remembered that it was time to participate in the preliminary match.
"Does having a disciple feel that good?"
Zhang Xiaopang's voice was brimming with jealousy.
He only had a phantasm in his illusion as consolation. Xin-er's appearance, voice and every word was created by him via an illusion. If he wanted more?
It did not exist!
Before he could endow the illusion with consciousness, everything was not real!
But Lu Ming?
Look, he had already forgotten about the competition.
This was too much!
Ah, the atmosphere was filled with a decomposing, sour taste…
"Get lost," Lu Ming said unhappily.
Perhaps the thoughts of these guys went astray.
As for the competition…
Wasn't it just a small matter?