Just like that, Yi Lin gained the identity of a registered disciple.
He wore two strings of waist badges on his belt.
One belonged to the Sermon Yard, and the other to Fangyuan Mountain.
The sun rises in the east.
The next morning.
Yi Lin woke up in the wooden hut at Fangyuan Mountain, washed up, chatted with the three mini Mother Spirits for a while, and arrived punctually at the top of Fangyuan Mountain, at Ren Qingshan's secluded courtyard.
The treatment between people cannot be generalized. When he was in the Sermon Yard, he had his own small room. But here, he could only dwell in the wooden hut, forming a stark contrast in treatment.
When Yi Lin arrived, the other six people were already there waiting.
Dew had even wetted a section of Zhong Lin's hair, clumping it in strands against his scalp, evidently getting up in the dark of night and waiting here early.
"Do they have to be so competitive?"
