The Fighting Arena
"So, let me repeat again," said the old man after settling himself on the chair behind the counter.
"What is it that you are looking for? Is it simply a weapon or something that matches your spirit?" he leaned in the counter and asked in a solemn tone.
Le Fang ling could feel him waiting for her answer just by looking at his pale eyes that were boring a hole through her.
"Master," she said in a humble tone as she bowed down in front of him in respect.
"I seek your guidance."
"Cough," the old man was a little bit startled when he heard her all him master. No one had done it in many years if his seclusion of living like a mortal. He had given up on taking in apprentices and disciples after he was betrayed by one of his own student.
"Why do you call me master young lady?" he asked as he straightened himself on the chair.
"I am a mere cultivator who is similar to mortals," he shook his head slowly as he glanced at her.