The afternoon sun cast a lazy warmth upon the winding stone paths of the Qingxuan Sect.
Fang Han and Yun Qianyue walked side by side, heading toward the plaza where the Overall Martial Arts Stele was located.
Neither was particularly talkative, so they walked in silence, the only sound being the soft echo of their footsteps on the quiet path.
Yun Qianyue, her face hidden by a purple veil, carried herself with a poised and graceful bearing.
Only when she occasionally glanced at the placid Fang Han beside her would a flicker of subtle curiosity flash in the bright eyes above her veil.
As they reached a wider fork in the road flanked by ancient pines, a figure suddenly appeared before them, blocking their path completely.
The newcomer was about twenty-five or twenty-six, tall and thin. At his waist hung a long, sheathed saber of antique design.
His narrow eyes were slightly squinted, glinting with malicious intent.
It was Zhao Kun, ranked seventieth on the overall list.
