Hua Yan appeared before Yu Dongyang like a ghost, utterly silent. The chill radiating from her body far exceeded the sudden cold wave sweeping in.
The instant she appeared, Yu Dongyang sensed an immense threat. His vigilance surged to its highest point.
"Who are you?"
Over the years, he had overseen the sect's affairs, great and small, naturally including its intelligence department. He was intimately familiar with every expert at the Purple Palace Stage and above in Great Qi and the surrounding Cultivation Worlds.
As a key target of surveillance, the Song Clan kept records not only of Purple Palace Cultivators, but even of Foundation Establishment Cultivators with outstanding performances. Yet this woman was absolutely not among them.
Given her cultivation, it made no sense that he had not heard even a scrap of news about her.
"Master ordered me to take you back. If you cooperate, you can suffer a little less physical pain," Hua Yan said flatly.
Hearing such utterly contemptuous words, Yu Dongyang could not help sneering. "Heh, what a joke. Back then, even Song Changsheng couldn't do anything to me. Let alone you!"
The moment those words left his mouth, a cold glint flashed through Hua Yan's eyes.
With light steps, her figure appeared like a phantom less than one zhang behind Yu Dongyang. Her jade hand, clad in Ice Silkworm Silk gloves, reached straight for the center of his back.
She moved so swiftly that she left behind an afterimage. Yu Dongyang only saw a blur before bone-piercing cold surged from behind him.
For a moment, alarm bells rang wildly in his heart. Like a cat with its fur standing on end, every hair on his body bristled.
What speed.
Years of combat experience made Yu Dongyang instinctively evade the instant he sensed danger. But