Qin Ziteng subconsciously raised his hand to cover one side of his face, and his resentment towards Rong Zi deepened.
His teeth...
"Look at your pathetic self." Song Fengming glanced at Rong Zi not far away without changing his expression and said in a slightly cold tone, "I'll knock out two of her eyes for you later."
Although he had just told the alliance leader to go easy on that little girl.
But after all, there is a huge difference in their levels of understanding.
If he didn't stop and accidentally knocked out two of her teeth, no one would dare say anything.
Qin Ziteng's eyes lit up. "Really?"
Finally, someone can take care of Rong Zi for him?
Song Fengming didn't speak, but merely glanced at him indifferently, the meaning in his eyes self-evident.
"Thank you, Master." Qin Ziteng was extremely excited.
Master is right.
Faced with absolute power, no amount of underhanded tactics will work.
His master was a Mahayana cultivator.
Among those present, apart from the leader of the alliance, almost no one could rival his master.
Even if Rong Zi is cunning, he is at most a minor Foundation Establishment cultivator.
Perhaps her master only needs to move a finger slightly to torture her until she cries for mercy and begs for forgiveness on her knees.
Just thinking about that scene made Qin Ziteng incredibly excited.
I can't wait...
Song Fengming waved his hand at him with some disdain, "Alright, hurry up and go sit in the audience."
"yes."
Qin Ziteng responded cheerfully, humming a little tune, and walked briskly towards the audience seats.
...
The competition has officially begun.
The participating sect leaders began drawing lots.
Of course, Rong Zi and Song Fengming did not participate in the draw.
There are a total of 2,317 sects participating in this year's sect competition.
Excluding Rong Zi and Song Fengming, there were a total of 2,315 people participating in the lottery.
The corresponding number of wooden slips were prepared according to the number of people.
There are a total of 1,158 numbers on the wooden stick.
The first 1,157 numbers all have two digits.
Two people who draw the same number become opponents.
Those who draw the last odd number will receive a bye.
Murong Zhen stood on the high platform in front of the square. Someone put the prepared wooden sticks in a box and placed them on the table in front of him.
He glanced down at it, then flicked his sleeve.
The box was opened, and all the wooden skewers inside flew out, scattering high into the air above the square.
Upon seeing this, the sect leaders in the square all reached up and grabbed a wooden slip from above, then looked down to see the number on it.
The leaders of the five major sects did not stand in the square like the others.
Instead, she stood with Murong Zhen.
Their cultivation was profound; with just a wave of their hand, a stick would fly into their hand.
Shui Qingyue glanced at the number on her slip of paper, then turned to ask the others.
"What numbers are on your slips? Mine is number 789. Is anyone else with the same number?"
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