Yang Yan laughed heartily and said nonchalantly:
"Zimu, there's a saying that a gentleman's word is as good as a promise, and a true man's word is like a precious pledge."
"Once words are spoken, they are like spilled water; I must fulfill what I've said."
Although he didn't explicitly say it, his demeanor clearly showed confidence.
Lin Zimu naturally shut his mouth wisely, refraining from saying more.
In Lin's eyes, Yang Yan indeed seemed somewhat profound and mysterious.
At the very least, certainly not as simple as the sect claimed, stating Yang Yan was merely at the sixth level of Qi Cultivation.
"Haha! Yang, Senior Brother!"
Just as Lin Zimu was silent, a cheerful laugh suddenly came from afar.
They saw a streak pass through the sky, and a person appeared beside them.
"Yang… oh no, now the disciple should address you as Grandmaster. Grandmaster Yang!"
