"I... my name is Liao Ping'an." The frail young boy with a face covered in blood softly spoke.
The middle-aged man slightly furrowed his brows and said, "You don't want to be my disciple?"
The boy named Liao Ping'an lowered his head and remained silent. He had never heard of Mo Shouhe and had no idea about the astonishing background of the seemingly ordinary middle-aged man before him.
After all, Liao Ping'an was the lowest disciple at the Meteor Sword Villa, having never seen much of the world, nor knowing the mighty figures under heaven and earth.
For Liao Ping'an, the elders in Meteor Sword Villa were already strong figures in his heart.
Mo Shouhe gave a cold snort and casually lifted the boy up, causing fear to flash in the boy's eyes, uncertain of the man's intentions.
"Whether you want to or not, a disciple chosen by me, Mo Shouhe, has no right to refuse. From now on, you are my disciple." Mo Shouhe said forcefully, with cold eyes fixed on Liao Ping'an.
