Mo Cheng's shaking voice, resembling that of a nervous youth, was in complete contrast to his social status and physical appearance. The handsome succeeding disciple of the Sword Bearer's division, owning a harem of concubines in his estate, born and raised in the lap of luxury, was awkwardly scratching the back of his neck while staring at her affectionately. At that moment, he looked so much like a love-struck puppy, a very silly, love-struck puppy.

As Li Meirong looked at him, she noticed that he seemed to have been seriously training for the approaching tournament. Half of his hair was tied into a high bun, while the rest of the strands trailed down a set of broad shoulders. The muscles of his glistening chest could be glimpsed from the crevice of a loosely tied robe, his narrow hips flanked by a sword on each side. His body was developed under a daily exercise regimen, growing leaner and taller still.

Despite the careless way in which he lived and his indulgence in material desires, Li Meirong had known Mo Cheng for many years, and thus, knew that he trained rigorously from dusk until dawn each and every day.

If there was something certain that she knew about Mo Cheng, it was that he valued his friends, and that he loved cultivating. He was the type of person who would refuse to back down from a challenge, and wouldn't take no for an answer. This quality made him annoying at times, especially when it came to his insistent wooing, but when such insistence was directed to surpassing one's spiritual and physical limitations, he possessed just the right mindset.

The obvious effort he put into training caused Li Meirong to feel as though she unfairly acquired her powers by a sheer fluke. She didn't seem to invest even half the amount of energy that he had in the past.

Her attention was diverted to Mo Cheng's honey-brown eyes that were filled with innocence, and her anger slowly dimmed. She wasn't sure if it was because she had known him since he was young. Ever since they had met, he was one of the few people who had never wronged her. Or perhaps it was because of the way he always looked at her with the simplicity of a child that knew he did wrong, but was far too young to understand the reason why his parents were displeased with him.

Whatever the case was, Li Meirong still considered Mo Cheng her friend, even if they didn't always get along.

Li Meirong's stern appearance softened as she cleared her throat and said, "I came to visit because of an urgent matter. It includes your brother too, so you might as well know about it."

Noticing the seriousness in her tone, Mo Cheng stiffened and his voice grew somber. "Please, come inside and we'll talk it over," he said, reaching with his palm to hold her palm and urge her inside.

However, just before his hand made contact with hers, a sword pierced through the air so close to his skin, that the fine hairs on his wrist were neatly cropped off, left to float off in the wind.