tdoyoumeanby‘秩序‘?“ZhengQingmingasked,tryingtosteertheconversationbackontrack.
BaoYangziMastersmiledenigmatically,hiseyesglintinginthedimlightoftheroom.“Ah,myyoungfriend,“hesaid,hisvoicedrippingwithmystery.“Thatisaquestionforanothertime.“
Theoldman‘swordshungintheairlikeachallenge,,hecouldn‘tshakeoffthefeelingthattheywereallbeingleddownapathfromwhichtherewasnoreturn.
BaoYangziMaster‘snextquestioncutthroughtheconversationlikeahotknifethroughbutter,“??相较于‘称呼’这种小事，你想好怎么构建你的‘秩序’了吗？”
ZhengQingmingfelthisheartskipabeatasherealizedthatBaoYangziMasterwasnotjustaskingaboutthestructureoftheirrespectiveinstitutions,,onethathehadn‘tevenbeenawareofhimself.
Inthatmoment,ZhengQingmingfeltlikehewasstandingattheedgeofaprecipice,‘tjustsitbackanddonothing,buthealsodidn‘tknowwhattherightcourseofactionwas.
Thequestionseemedsimpleenough,,-orsomeone-tomakeamove.
TheairwasthickwithtensionasBaoYangziMaster‘swordshunginthebalance,leavingZhengQingmingfeelinglikehewastrappedinawebofuncertaintyfromwhichtherewasnoescape.
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