Dusk was gradually settling.
Inside the Seven Stars Gang's dining hall, a cacophony of voices and the clatter of bowls and chopsticks filled the air.
Chu Fan had his head down, eating. His expression was calm as his spoon moved between his bowl and his mouth.
Across the table, Zhao Tianxing chewed his food while staring at him with a resentful gaze.
Ever since he saw Chu Fan send a Profound Iron Wooden Stake flying with a single punch last night, this was how Zhao Tianxing had been looking at him.
By now, no matter how slow Zhao Tianxing was, he understood that Chu Fan must have condensed three wisps of qi and blood and broken through to the Blood Nourishing Realm.
'But how on earth did Chu Fan cultivate?'
They had clearly joined the Seven Stars Gang on the same day, and on the first day of practicing the Twelve Forms Fist, Chu Fan had been as exhausted as a dead dog...
'How had he suddenly left him so far in the dust, completely out of reach?'
"Hey, hey, hey..."
