Fang Han's expression was calm as he averted his gaze, his heart completely undisturbed.
'Right now, I'm certainly no match for Chu Feng, but I believe that day won't be far off.'
As time passed, more and more people gathered in the plaza.
Most of the disciples had arrived, and even many Stewards and Elders, who were rarely seen on a normal day, began to appear. They took their seats in the reserved viewing area at the edge of the plaza, their low voices creating a solemn atmosphere.
About an hour later, a slight commotion suddenly stirred at the entrance to the plaza.
Two groups of people entered the plaza from different directions at almost the same time.
The group on the left was led by a young man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight.
He wore the True Inheritor Disciple Robe of the Qingxuan Sect, with flowing cloud patterns embroidered in silver thread on the cuffs and collar, highlighting his extraordinary status.
