Zhang Zhengqing, Zuo Song, and a group of Hunyuan Sect disciples had just walked in when Cao Qian spotted Lin Bai. His face instantly darkened with fury.
Although the injuries on Cao Qian's face had already improved, the humiliation Lin Bai had inflicted on him that day—and the burning pain in his face—remained vividly etched in his mind.
"Senior Brother Zuo Song, please avenge me!"
Cao Qian shouted toward Zuo Song.
"Junior Brother Cao Qian, even if you hadn't said anything, several elders had already instructed us that if we encountered this man in the secret realm, we were to leave him here forever!"
"And now that he's walked right in front of us, that's for the best."
Zuo Song abruptly turned toward Lin Bai. His expression was icy, and a trace of killing intent gleamed across his blade-carved features.
At that moment, Zuo Song took an ice-white sharp sword from his Storage Bag and looked at Lin Bai. In a cold voice, he said, "Kill yourself. I rarely bother to make a move."
Lin Bai looked at the sharp sword in Zuo Song's hand. The instant the sword entered his grasp, Zuo Song's entire body became as bone-chillingly cold as a block of ice, and powerful waves of Sword Qi radiated from him.
Clearly, Zuo Song was a formidable swordsman.
"The Waterdrop Sword, Zuo Song!"
Lin Bai recalled the title the martial artists of Dragon River Prefecture used for Zuo Song. It seemed to be the Waterdrop Sword.
"What if I don't kill myself?" Lin Bai looked at Zuo Song with a smile, his tone carrying a strong hint of provocation.
"Are you provoking me?" Zuo Song asked coldly.
"So what if I am?" Lin Bai replied with a disdainful laugh.
Zuo Song's expression turned colder, and killing intent