Arena Tournament (4)

Murong De's brows knitted together tightly as though he was tied up and roasted on fire, in a dilemma.

Just at this moment, Li Moying's voice suddenly rang, "Since Sect Master Cui has already said this, then if our Sect doesn't take up the challenge, it is indeed unacceptable. This arena tournament…. We naturally must fight!"

No one expected Li Moying to say anything at this point of time so momentarily, everyone's gazes transferred onto him.

Li Moying who was dressed in black entirely leaned against the spacious seat as he held up a wine cup in his hand. That slender, powerful and fair fingers lightly clasped the glazed cup as his posture was relaxed and elegant, his disposition cold but distinguished, as though he was a natural born lord.

Whereas by his side sat a slender and petite stunning young lady, as she watched him with a face filled with adoration.