"Got lucky, picked a soft persimmon."
He Liancheng was not a mediocre fighter either. He too was ranked within the top two hundred on the Master List, and upon realizing his opponent was merely a Fifth Grade Martial Sect, he felt significantly more at ease, as if a weight had lifted from his heart.
Hearing this, Ye Xuan couldn't help but feel both amused and ironic; he had become the "soft persimmon." However, from an outward perspective, indeed, the Cultivation of a Fifth Grade Martial Sect was considered low level among the contestants of the tournament, so it was no wonder He Liancheng harbored such thoughts.
"Kid, running into me, He Liancheng, is your bad luck, don't blame me!"
He Liancheng didn't wish to waste words with Ye Xuan and, after a thunderous shout, he shot forth directly, aiming a palm strike at Ye Xuan from across the air.
