One Pound Meat, One More Attribute Point

"I think Junior Brother’s cultivation has improved again,"

At Pure Yang Martial Arts Hall, Ning Wantong was having dinner with her father, Ning Zhibai. Ning Wantong was scraping rice in her bowl when she abruptly looked up, her gaze crossing the candle on the table to address Ning Zhibai.

"Junior Brother?"

Ning Zhibai wiped a grain of rice from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and asked in confusion, "Which Junior Brother, Su Heng?"

"Yes," Ning Wantong nodded.

"He has practiced Pure Yang Skill for only less than three months, what improvement could be visible?" Ning Zhibai said with a dismissive smile. "Pure Yang Skill is a genuine Taoist mental method that requires persistent effort. Even if that boy has decent talent, it would take over a decade to notice any change without considerable time."

"Is that so?" Ning Wantong murmured in agreement, sounding subdued.

As Ning Zhibai smiled, his expression stiffened slightly. He looked at his daughter, whose fair face turned completely red, possibly due to the candlelight or some other reason. With a slightly furrowed brow and a hint of suspicion, he asked, "You haven’t... taken a liking to him, have you?"

"Of course not!" Ning Wantong’s eyes widened, "We differ so much in age, how could that even be possible?"