The gossiping disciples huddled closer as they stared at Mo Cheng.

"Isn't that the succeeding disciple of the Sword Bearer's division? I've heard he was the star of the sect up until a few months ago. I do wonder how a person like that became so famous. What a spiteful tongue!" The Healer's Peak Disciple whispered in her friend's ear conspiratorially.

"How unbecoming of a succeeding disciple to lose his temperament. Our division's 'respectable' successor must have gotten jealous because Senior Qingyue holds a higher position than him."

The Sword Bearer's Disciple whispered back to her friend as the three female disciples eyed Mo Cheng with derision and disbelief.

Mo Jing lowered his head in embarrassment as he hurriedly stepped closer to his brother. He always hated it when Mo Cheng started behaving this way.

Most of the time, his older brother had acted cool, calm, and collected, except for a few rare occasions which hadn't matched his character whatsoever, such as now.

These tantrums had first started many years ago, when Mo Cheng had only been twelve years of age.

At that time, Mo Jing was a very young boy, and he could barely remember anything from when he was so young. However, the one thing he could never manage to forget were the events of that wretched day, when his older brother had nearly died.

The Mo clan were a prominent family of martial arts practitioners, and as such, Mo Jing and Mo Cheng's parents had often travelled on their own without requiring the employment of trained guards, unlike many other noble families in their social position.

Unperturbed by any potential danger lurking ahead, they failed to take the necessary precautions to protect themselves.

Mo Jing remembered thinking how beautiful the mountainous scenery had seemed to him on that day, when their family had travelled uphill to visit a remote temple in his youth. He remembered how he had been frozen to the spot as skilled assassins had ambushed them.

He remembered how his brave older brother had shielded him from harm once a bandit had aimed a bow in his direction.

An intense feeling of terror seized Mo Jing's heart. He recalled the way his older brother's pristine white tunic had been stained crimson once the bandit released the arrow, striking Mo Cheng's back.

To this very day, Mo Jing had experienced moments he'd wake up in a cold sweat from dreaming of that night.

Everybody had thought that from such a deadly strike, Mo Cheng wouldn't be able to survive.

Even their parents had given up, thinking their son would soon pass away, and began to arrange funeral preparations for Mo Cheng.

Yet the unimaginable had occurred, and Mo Cheng had opened his eyes a few days later. The only side effect he experienced had been a slight memory loss, according to the doctors, at least.

Since then, Mo Jing had noticed a few peculiar changes in his brother, not only to his personality, but also his knowledge and interests. Although Mo Cheng was still protective and caring as ever, it sometimes felt to Mo Jing as if his older brother had become a completely different person.

"Shut up!" yelled Mo Cheng, suddenly frightening Mo Jing out of his thoughts, and scaring the gossipers into silence.

Mo Jing grabbed Mo Cheng's shoulder, hoping to avoid another awkward scene. He pulled him away from the crowd. "Brother, let's go back to our quarters, alright?"

Mo Cheng roughly shook Mo Jing away from him. "Stop looking at me like I'm crazy! You're just an NPC. You're not a real person, so you won't be able to understand!"

He held a hand to each side of his head, cursing under his breath. "I'm the protagonist, and she is my female lead! How is it possible for me to kill the villain and save the beauty when I haven't even developed my golden core?"

At that exact moment, less than a few minutes since Li Meirong's match had begun, her battered opponent was flung right out of the arena, tossed like a broken toy at a row of astonished spectators.