Before the words had even faded, Steward Wang, Lin Ziheng, Zhang Hengyi, and Zhao Xuexiang rushed over, their faces beaming with unrestrained joy.
"Yang Jing, well done! Lingxi Peak can finally hold its head high!" Steward Wang stroked his beard, grinning from ear to ear.
Lin Ziheng was so excited he was practically dancing. "First place! It's really first place! Junior Brother Yang, you're incredible! Who's going to say Lingxi Peak has no talent now?"
Zhang Hengyi and Zhao Xuexiang nodded repeatedly beside them, congratulating Yang Jing on his victory with expressions full of shock and admiration.
Zhao Xuexiang gazed at the composed Yang Jing before him, feeling as if he were in a dream.
For ordinary Inner Sect Disciples like them, winning first place in the Cyan Qilin Battle was an almost unattainable honor.
