Yang Qizhou initially thought, "Is this 'Secret Cultivator' a little too arrogant?" But upon glancing around, he immediately understood why.
Scattered nearby were indeed quite a few men—middle-aged uncles with satchels, students in basketball jerseys, young men dressed flamboyantly, all busy with different activities. The one thing they had in common? Their eyes kept sneaking glances at the 'Secret Cultivator'.
No doubt, plenty of others had tried striking up a conversation earlier, only to meet with crushing defeat.
A beauty that spells disaster, indeed.
Yang Qizhou pointed at himself. "Should I leave, then?"
The 'Secret Cultivator' and the 'Rabbit' didn't so much as lift an eyelid. They were masters at handling clingy sycophants, treating such men with as little attention as humanly possible.
