The Next Morning – Training Field
The sun was already high, casting a warm glow over the open training ground.
The sounds of weapons clashing, spiritual beasts roaring, and disciples sparring echoed across the air.
Everyone was present.
Everyone—except Lin Fan.
Mu Qianxue stood at the center of the training grounds with her gourd of wine lazily in one hand and a crooked frown spreading across her lips.
She took a long sip, smacked her lips once, and muttered, "Alright, where is that idiot?"
Her gaze swept across the disciples.
Hei Long was standing with his arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, while Bai Luoluo sat cross-legged, tinkering with her bazooka-like contraption.
"…Don't all look so innocent," Mu Qianxue said, narrowing her eyes. "Where's Lin Fan?"
"Wasn't he with you, Master?" Bai Luoluo replied, shrugging. "He seemed unusually… sweaty yesterday."
"He's always sweaty," Hei Long added.
Mu Qianxue's eyebrow twitched.
