Outside the bamboo hut, Han Shuangjiang watched the two leaving, then glanced at the dishes on the wooden table, murmuring to herself:
"Aren't you going to have dinner first?"
She was actually a bit hungry.
The night was closing in, and quite a few fireflies could still be seen on Medicine Mountain.
Chu Huaixu strode ahead, while the young servant followed quickly behind him.
Xu Ziqing wanted to say something several times but wasn't good with words.
He didn't understand how he had so absentmindedly become a registered disciple, or why this master suddenly helped him.
Was it really because he cherished talent?
Yet on that day, when he was learning the palm technique, the master showed no expression, merely muttering blandly, "Hmm, not bad."
The delicate-looking youth shook his head, deciding not to think about it for now since he couldn't figure it out.
No matter what, I must seize this opportunity to cultivate.
