lt;one breath of the

Zhao Fu Yun was taken out of the Zhao family by his aunt when he was thirteen years old and sent to practice in the courtyard under Tian Du Mountain. It has been thirteen years since then.,His gaze swept over those few people, saying nothing. He slung his pack over his shoulder and, amidst the complex gazes of his fellow disciples, strode down the mountain.,One poured wine, the other offered fruit. A faint fragrance lingered at their noses. They wore thin, sheer garments, revealing skin as smooth as jade. Snowy elbows peeked out from beneath their clothes, gently brushing his arms and back, leaving a cool, slippery touch.。