“苏晚，你可知错？”嗓门洪亮，震得苏晚耳膜嗡嗡作响。她咬着牙，腮帮子都快被咬出血来了，才挤出几个字：“知…错了…师兄，我错了…”

周围一片哄笑，内门师兄们看她的眼神，跟看傻子似的。苏晚心里那个恨啊，前世再怎么被人看不起，好歹也是商业场上叱咤风云的人物，没想到一穿越过来，就成了这玄天门最没地位的炮灰小仙。

“错了？” suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the mockery. It belonged to a tall, slender young man standing at the edge of the crowd, his eyes cold as ice, yet oddly captivating. He wore a silver-garbed, exuding an aura of aloofness and impeccable elegance that seemed out of place in such a boisterous setting.

His gaze locked onto her bruised and battered face, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before settling into a faint, almost imperceptible frown. “Are you truly penitent, little brat?”

His words carried more weight than anyone else’s. The laughter subsided immediately, and a few curious or brave ones turned to him. He was the revered oldest brother of the inner door, the one and only, Yun Qinghe. A genius beyond compare, known for both his unparalleled cultivation base and his ice-cold temperament.