The ten Spirit Coins traced a parabola through the air.
The young man's eyes lit up. He didn't even see the movement of Han Feng's hand before the coins vanished.
'With that kind of speed, it's a waste of talent not to practice with Hidden Weapons.'
"What a generous boss!"
The young man immediately hunched over, his slick, mercenary smile looking much more sincere.
He glanced left and right as if guarding against thieves, then pulled Han Feng behind a massive White Jade Pillar.
"Since you're so savvy, boss, I won't hold back."
The young man lowered his voice and said mysteriously:
"There's only one reason why the disciples of all those great families are fighting tooth and nail for a spot in the Hall of Myriad Spirits."
He held up a single finger and softly uttered two words.
"Yan Dao."
Han Feng raised an eyebrow.
Yan Dao?
'That term sounds a little familiar.'
