Yang Jing's calm gaze swept over the few outer sect disciples who had stepped forward to bow. He gave a slight nod, his tone indifferent as he said, "There's no need for formalities."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the dignified air of an Inner Sect Disciple, commanding respect.
As his voice faded, his gaze slowly shifted to Zhao Hongxiang, Su Qingyue, Lin Wenxuan, and Cai He Kang, who were standing off to the side.
The four of them had long since lost their usual arrogance and indifference. Each of them stood with their heads bowed and their gazes averted, not daring to meet Yang Jing's eyes.
Su Qingyue still had a hand covering her face. The red mark on her cheek remained distinct, her neck was slightly retracted, and her entire posture radiated unease and anxiety.
