1289: The Lingering Note of a Plucked Vermilion String, Yet the Lonely Heart of That Time

A tall tree caught the wind. Everyone in the martial world was watching Black Wind Stronghold and the Wudang Sect for their response.

Yet regardless of what response Black Wind Stronghold or the Wudang Sect might have, they would not immediately reveal it for the martial world to know. Information would circulate among their upper echelons first; the news that truly became known throughout the martial world was in fact information deliberately released after actions had already been carried out.

After returning to the Dragon Tiger Gang, Jiang Dali instructed his subordinates to arrange lodging for Nameless and Lian Chengbi, then hurried off to see Demon Lord Bai Suzhen.

He wore a Stronghold Lord's fitted martial outfit that had begun to feel slightly tight, his black cloak billowing vigorously around his heels as he walked. After the repeated breakthroughs of the Divine Demon Adamantine Body, his already tall, broad, and powerful frame had become even more imposing, like it had been forged from steel, concealing astonishing strength. With Wen Chou Chou attentively and cautiously waiting upon him at the side, he passed through the corridors of the gang headquarters.

"Greetings, Stronghold Lord!"

The gang members guarding both sides of the gate lowered their heads and shouted in solemn salute, their morale high.

"Neighhh—"

A thunderous chorus of horse cries suddenly came from not far beyond the corridor. The dozens of fine horses in the stables had sensed the intimidating aura emanating from Jiang Dali and were startled into rearing up, kicking their front hooves as the stable descended into chaos.

"Hm?"

Jiang Dali paused slightly. His rugged yet handsome face was unusually animated, a faint radiance flickering in his eyes. He frowned. "Are the horses in the gang not fine steeds? How could they be frightened so easily?"

The hearts