When they heard the mocking words, the few Xuanyuan Sect disciples who were in high spirits suddenly had their expressions sink. They all turned their heads to look.
At the window seats sat four people: three men and one woman.
The young woman's face was charming, and sitting beside her was a young man dressed in a purple-gold robe, with exceptionally long legs and an imposing presence. He was quietly sipping tea, his gaze occasionally sweeping across the Luoyan River, as if waiting for something.
All four of them bore the golden cloud emblem of outer disciples from the Fierce Cloud Sect.
"Fierce Cloud Sect!"
Wang Zhao frowned.
One hot-tempered Xuanyuan Sect disciple immediately shouted in anger:
"Is this how the Fierce Cloud Sect teaches its disciples? Publicly insulting another sect, how insolent!"
The small-eyed youth sitting next to the tall teenager sneered sinisterly, "I'm just stating facts!"
