Fang Geyu stiffly turned his neck to meet Su Jing's ice-sculpted visage, who was eyeing her with a cold, cool gaze.
The warmth of the skin between her fingers seemed in an instant to become some sort of stinging poison, and Fang Geyu quickly withdrew her hands.
She coughed lightly twice, her fists pressed to her lips, and then took three steps back, performing an insincere sword salute, "I've seen the Young Sect Master, Su."
Su Jing brushed off her snow-white sleeves, expressionless, but clearly showing disgust, "No need for such formalities."
Fang Geyu was no ordinary person; she had great pride. Though startled for a moment, she quickly calmed the storm inside her heart.
She raised her eyebrows and smiled, "Congratulations to the Young Sect Master, Su, for recovering your soul."
Su Jing responded indifferently, "You're too kind."
