Yan Libing harbored no small number of doubts, but at this very moment, Lei Chongfeng—the identity Meng Zhao had assumed—had become a thorn in his heart.
In truth, Yan Libing himself was simply meticulous and cautious, observing his surroundings and the people within them with exceptional care. That was why he could spot even the slightest flaw in Meng Zhao. Had it been Qiao Nian or Shi Jiawen in the same situation, they most likely would not have noticed any of these abnormalities.
Just as Yan Libing began to suspect Meng Zhao, the Lei Family experts also broke through the shroud of dense clouds formed by the poisonous insects.
This time, however, they had not emerged unscathed. Two of them, due either to shallow cultivation or flaws in their martial foundations, had been unable to withstand that mercury-spilling-across-the-ground, all-pervasive assault and suffered grievous injuries.
Their clothes had been gnawed into tatters. Half of one man's body had turned jet-black, his flesh and blood mangled beyond recognition. Even if he had not been poisoned, he would not have survived—let alone under such circumstances.
The other was not much better, in fact even worse. The poisonous insects had ravaged his head until it no longer looked human. He had only managed to temporarily break through the poisonous cloud by relying on sheer strength of will. Not long after escaping that predicament, his breath dissipated, and he vanished into the netherworld.
There had not been many Lei Family experts accompanying Meng Zhao to begin with—only four in all. Now two had died. It was truly a devastating loss.
As for the two who remained alive, their condition was not much better either.
One man's palm had been bitten through by the poisonous insects, tendons and flesh torn apart. He had effectively lost a