The sullen man named Hua Yuan curled his lips into a cold smile and stared at Old Ghost Xuan Yin:
"What? Old Ghost Xuan Yin, were you really hoping us brothers would die in that hellhole of Misty Mountain? We brothers crawled out of that cursed place and endured bitterly for so many years, all for today! For this moment, do you know how hard we had to endure?"
Then his gaze froze on the jade bottle in Old Ghost Xuan Yin's hand, and he said coldly, "Enough nonsense! Hand over the bottle in your hand!"
Old Ghost Xuan Yin's expression changed drastically. He flipped his hand and hid the jade bottle in his sleeve, his sinister gaze sweeping over Hua Yuan and the other two. With a false smile, he said, "It's just a broken bottle. What is there to fight over? There are so many treasures outside—what isn't rarer than this thing? Why are you fixated on the junk in my rundown cave abode?"
"A broken bottle?"
Hua Yuan let out a scoff. "Old Ghost Xuan Yin, put away that pack of ghost talk! If it really were a broken bottle, would you cradle it like it was your own dad? Do you really take us brothers for fools?"
The hook-nosed man beside him also cut in darkly, "Exactly! Old Ghost, could it be that you thought you were the only one in Misty Mountain who obtained that scroll?"
The moment those words fell, Old Ghost Xuan Yin's face turned deathly pale. He said in horror, "You... you have scrolls too?!"
The triangular-eyed man beside Hua Yuan gave a strange chuckle and said teasingly, "What? Only you, Old Ghost Xuan Yin, are allowed a fortuitous encounter, while us brothers aren't allowed to stumble into some great luck too?"