With his master's detailed pointers fresh in his mind, Lin Yue's confidence soared, and he even felt a little excited for his afternoon match against Ye Canglan.
The private room fell silent for a moment. Only then did someone cautiously pick up their chopsticks, but no one dared to speak loudly anymore.
The other disciples couldn't help but feel a little wistful. 'We're all disciples, yet Master is so dedicated to Lin Yue that he's giving him pointers even during a meal. It's hard not to be jealous of that kind of treatment.'
Yang Jing silently drank his Spirit Fish Soup, committing the name "Ye Canglan" to memory. He was also beginning to understand the immense weight of Sun Yong's expectations for Lin Yue. 'Perhaps in Master's eyes,' he thought, 'all the other disciples from the Martial Arts Hall are just background props for Lin Yue in this tournament.'
