Unperturbed by honor or disgrace, watching the flowers bloom and wither in the courtyard.
Indifferent to coming or going, gazing at the clouds rolling and unfolding in the sky.
With leisurely elegance, a pot of tea.
And with a flick of a finger, a Twelfth-Rank Fist Master perished completely.
At first glance, the nonchalance emanating from Chen Yang seemed dismissive, but it was ultimately a display of supreme confidence and absolute self-assurance. It didn't matter if he faced the Martial Association or a massive crowd; he would simply enjoy his tea and kill as he pleased.
HUM!
