In today's world, who is the true master of connections?
Back when she first came down the mountain, Jill Young was convinced that, hands down, Grace Kwok was the ultimate social butterfly. Just look at her resume, her family tree—her network stretches everywhere. With that innocent little face, she could stroll right into Xiangyang City without a single checkpoint. It's basically a martial artist's VIP pass. From the Five Supremes to every major sect, she knows everyone and everything. So Jill decided from the start to recruit Grace. In a world without digital records, your face is your ID, and you need it everywhere you go.
But soon enough, everyone realized Grace was just a junior-level networker, while the Freewind Sect were the real face-recognition pros.
No need to mention the small fry sects—they’re out of their league. Out of nowhere, you’d find yourself linked to the Tomb Sect, and just as suddenly, you’d earn the gratitude of the Beggars' Guild. At the top tier of the martial world, in places where Grace’s face didn’t get her in, the Freewind Sect was surprisingly popular.
Today, out here in the boondocks and deep forests, their status as face-recognition wizards got another boost. That stubborn monk Grace couldn’t talk sense into? Maggie Monroe solved it with a single ring.
The monk was let down, looking pretty pathetic—like a yo-yo, swinging from a tree, despite being a near-master. But he had no fight left in him. Instead, his eyes were glued to Maggie Monroe—not her, but the ring on her finger. He circled her, hands twitching, panting and muttering feverishly, “Give me… give me…”
Maggie Monroe’s brows instantly knitted together.
“Give you my foot!” SNAP—Jill Young lost her cool first. She grabbed his bald head, twisted it ninety degrees to face her. Her forehead throbbed with veins, her white hair casting a wicked shadow, eyes flashing crimson: “If you keep acting like a lovesick pig, I don’t care who you are, what you want, or why—I'll crush your skull!”
Jill’s grip tightened, and the monk howled in pain. His sixty years of cultivation should’ve been enough to break free, but against Jill, he was helpless. He could feel with just a little more pressure, his skull would crack. Terrified, his piggish expression finally disappeared.
Whoosh! Jill flung the monk far away and barked at her sisters, “If this guy acts up again, strip him and string him up!” He’s clearly a nobody, but from the start he’s been acting all high and mighty. If you don’t put him in his place, he’ll never learn who’s boss!