Hei Long was in a good mood as he left the training grounds, hands clasped behind his head, whistling lightly.
The sun was warm, the sky was blue, and Lin Fan was soaking wet somewhere muttering curses into the grass.
A perfect day.
But that peace shattered the moment he rounded a corner near the inner court gardens.
"What's wrong, Saintess? Don't be so cold."
"Come on, we're inner disciples! That makes us practically elite. You should be honored we're even talking to you."
"Why don't you come with us for some tea, huh? Or we can skip the tea if you're shy—"
Three robed young men stood surrounding a woman in pure white robes.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes flickered with visible discomfort.
It was Ji Yao — the Saintess herself.
Hei Long's smile faded instantly.
He didn't shout. He didn't even raise his voice.
He simply walked forward with the calm energy of a man who had nothing to prove — which, of course, made him twice as terrifying.