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Ten-year-old Mo Hua wore the simple robes of an outer sect disciple, listlessly squatting behind a large rock at the foot of the mountain. He held grass roots in his hand and was burying himself in the ground, drawing intricate patterns.,You asked me to help you with your formation assignments, so tell me, what's your level,The slender young master sneered, “You’re telling me that just because your family background isn’t as good as mine, you don’t have as many spirit stones, and your array formations are better than mine, it means I’m stupid and inferior to others What’s so great about that”。

• latest chapter： Chapter 2: Ink Painting