"Martial Uncle?"
Looking at Zen Master Zhitong, whose white brows drooped to his chest, Zou Shaohai was stunned. Somewhat astonished, he said, "Your martial uncle is still alive? Then how old must he be..."
Before he could finish, he came to his senses and turned to look at Li Yan.
Li Yan said nothing, merely nodding slightly.
Zou Shaohai immediately understood. This was an evil criminal who had returned from the dead.
Though he was not an occultist, he had cultivated Martial Arts to Firm Strength, and even the Xuan Gate People dared not look down on him. Naturally, he knew a few things.
He also knew that the Orthodox Xuan Gate would take in some seniors who had returned from the dead or disrupted yin and yang, preserving them as a foundation.
The old monk hiding at Lingquan Temple earlier had probably been one of them.
That was why Li Yan had remained silent.
"You two benefactors have misunderstood..."
An old monk beside them suddenly spoke.
The old monk sat cross-legged on a meditation mat, his hands forming a lotus seal. Both his eyes were snow-white and hollow—he was clearly blind.
Yet when he looked over, it seemed as though he could see straight through people's hearts.
The old monk said solemnly, "Though that person's seniority was high, he was not a monk of Guangde Temple, and could not even be considered a Buddhist disciple."
"His name was 'Lang Wu.' He was a Spirit Medium from a Qiang Tribe on the Western Sichuan Plateau, and also a hero in the hearts of countless Qiang people at the time."
"During the previous dynasty, when the armies of the Golden Horde Wolf Country invaded the Western Sichuan Plateau, he led his tribe in resistance. Everyone in the Xuan Gate of Shu