Wang Ye naturally heard the distant call.
As a Sect Master, Wang Ye often inspected the cultivation of the numerous disciples on Tianyong Mountain.
Thus, he was familiar with the voice of every Disciple.
The voice coming through was pleasant and alluring, yet somewhat unfamiliar.
Moreover, with the Alliance Hierarch's tournament approaching, Wang Ye felt a heightened sense of alertness.
Following the voice, he encountered Pei Junhong leaning on a cherry blossom tree, seemingly on the verge of collapsing.
A pink robe flowed with thousand strands of hair like willow.
As if a Fairy descended to the mortal realm, indeed a peerless beauty.
Her looks, when compared to Chu Mingyue and Xia Yurou, were equally unmatched.
"This woman must be Pei Junhong."
For some reason, Wang Ye felt a vague familiarity.
It seemed he had met her in a past life.
Perhaps this was the effect of the Red Dust Fate Severing Line.
"Are you Pei Junhong, intending to harm me?"
