A sheen of cold sweat broke out on Shen Ao's forehead, and his whole body was drenched. He hurried a few steps to Li Xiaolin's side, stretched out a finger, and gently placed it over his heart. There was indeed no pulse at all.
"How could this be? When did it happen? Did Xiang Yang do this? Why did he kill Li Xiaolin?"
Shen Ao's heart was full of doubts. Li Xiaolin had been answering his questions just moments ago and had seemed perfectly healthy. Now he had suddenly died; it had to be connected to Xiang Yang.
This was easy enough to understand. Li Xiaolin himself was a top expert who had reached great accomplishment in the Innate Primordial Spirit. He had no hidden ailments and would not have been ambushed for no reason.
And in the past few days, the only expert Li Xiaolin had encountered and fought was Xiang Yang. It could not have been anyone else besides him.
From what Shen Ao knew, the only chance Xiang Yang had to tamper with anything was when he had beaten Li Xiaolin into a crumbling rout with three fingers. Especially that third finger—it had looked light and powerless, as though he had shown mercy, but there had to be some hidden mystery within it.
What puzzled him even more was this: if Xiang Yang had intended to kill, why had he killed only Li Xiaolin rather than attacking him as well? A warning? A show of force? Or some other reason?
Meanwhile, Xiang Yang used his lightness skill to leap out of Cangyun Mountain Villa. He slid down a cliff face weathered by wind and rain, his wide sleeves fluttering as they shook the void. With clear wind beneath his feet, he drifted down like willow catkins, leaping