As a Golden Core, Wuxinming rarely lost his composure, opening his mouth like a mortal and remaining silent for a long time, his mind like a storm-tossed sea. Seeing this, Wen Jiu didn't say another word.
He just sat quietly, taking a light sip of the Hundred-Year Spirit Tea that Zhao Ming had bought from the stone table. When he tried to take another sip, it felt flavorless. For Qi Cultivation Foundation Establishment, the Hundred-Year Spirit Tea was acceptable, but for a Golden Core, it was like Spiritual Liquid with impurities.
After a long while, Wuxinming knelt on the ground with a thud. The words "Master He" on his lips quietly transformed as he tentatively asked a question, but immediately realized it might be abrupt, "Senior, could you be a master of the Cyan Demon Lineage? Please don't misunderstand, I am not trying to pry, but I have long admired the seniors of the Cyan Demon Lineage."
