"Hei Ya, do you understand where you went wrong now?"
Still upon the River of Destiny, Yun Wuxiang took out a palm-sized red wine gourd and slowly rubbed it between his palms.
"I deserve to die!"
Hei Ya viciously gave himself one slap.
He had already reforged his Dao body, though it was still frail and would need a long time to recover to its peak.
Yun Wuxiang shot Hei Ya a sidelong glance and gave a chuckle. "It seems I, Yun Wuxiang, am still not imposing enough. Compared with Martial Uncle, I fall far too short."
Hei Ya's expression changed abruptly, and he was just about to explain.
Yun Wuxiang waved a hand. "That is the truth. I admit it myself. Compared with Martial Uncle, I am still a cut below him. It is only natural that you fear he might settle accounts after autumn."
Hei Ya lowered his head in silence.
Before this, he had truly never known that Yun Wuxiang's Martial Uncle, famed for "brewing tea to kill and making wine to entertain guests," actually had feelings for Su Wanjun!
That Martial Uncle was a Founder at the source of the demonic Dao and a ruler at the end of the demonic Dao!
He delighted in brewing tea, yet his purpose was to kill.
He detested making wine, yet for the sake of entertaining guests, he would still painstakingly brew a pot of fine wine himself.
And in the Zhongxuan Dao Ruins, that Martial Uncle possessed a strange Daoist title known to all—
Bu Sheng Han!
The heights were too cold to endure.
"Though this matter was one move short on the chessboard, Su Wanjun has appeared. Once we return, we will have an explanation for Martial Uncle."
Yun Wuxiang stroked his chin and muttered regretfully, "What