The night was as dark as ink, the starlight dim. In the small pavilion beside the martial arts practice ground, Ye Fan and Lin Zhaoyue sat side by side. The floral fragrance carried by the evening breeze had long been dispelled by a faint, elusive aura of murderous intent. Though Ye Fan’s heart rejoiced over his breakthrough in cultivation, he felt all the more vigilant against the latent dangers lurking within the Cangwu Sword Sect.
Just as he was about to speak and break this delicate stillness, an extremely urgent set of footsteps approached from afar, beating against the heart like a battle drum.
"Young Master Ye! Young Master Ye!" A youth wearing the outer disciple uniform of the Cangwu Sword Sect rushed breathlessly outside the pavilion, his face covered in anxiety and sweat, tightly clutching a red-wax-sealed letter in his hand.
Chapter 82