Yu Ang’s diligent cultivation was for himself. Even if his father, Mu Zhuoyun, had arranged a Magic Duel for him a year from now, Yu Ang genuinely did not put this matter in his heart.
“Why don’t you head over, I’ll be right there with you,” Mu He told him.
Yu Ang nodded as he walked toward the Master’s house.
After going through an artificial garden, Yu Ang stepped into an unusual little courtyard.
In a European-styled Mansion like this, having an antique tea house was extremely strange.
“Father, I don’t understand why you have arranged a boring duel for me.” Yu Ang sat down to one side as he addressed Mu Zhuoyun.