An hour later, Wen Chuanxue appeared in the square. Looking at the disciples scattered haphazardly, his face instantly turned incredibly gloomy.
Over 100,000 disciples of the Langya Sect stood lazily in clusters across the square, heads bowed and murmuring amongst themselves. In terms of formation, they were inferior even to an ordinary imperial army.
"Is this the sect you're managing for me?" Wen Chuanxue asked Yang Andao with scorn.
Ten thousand years ago, when he was the Sect Master, the Langya Sect was nothing like this!
Back then, the Sect Disciples were refined and elegant, well-read in the classics, and possessed an extraordinary demeanor. Whether discussing ancient and modern topics or venturing out for battle, they were always presentable!
But now, they couldn't even form a proper line. A cloying scent of perfume and powder emanated from them. Their eyes were sunken, and they looked as if they had excessively indulged.
Is this how a king-ranked power should behave?
