The woman saw that no one was answering her. The smile vanished from her face, and she turned to leave.
Everyone silently watched as she flew back into the bustling night market and stopped before a man dressed in purple robes with two horns growing from his head. She reported something to him in a low voice.
Gu Qingshan suddenly said, "Fellow Daoists, may I ask which one of you was the Fellow Daoist Huang you mentioned earlier?"
All the cultivators looked at one person.
"That Fellow Daoist Huang came from the Cultivation World I'm from. Last time, he came here to undergo the Mount Sumeru Tribulation."
"Where is he? Did he die during the tribulation?" Gu Qingshan asked.
"How should I put it? A few of us escorted him through the tribulation last time, but then—"
The cultivator's face showed a hint of fear. He raised a hand and pointed toward the night market.
Gu Qingshan followed his gaze.
A person stood in a corner of the night market, beside a table and an oven.
He was rolling dough with all his might, sweating profusely as he shouted something.
Unfortunately, aside from the woman just now, no one else's words could be heard at all. Gu Qingshan had no idea what he was shouting.
The man lifted the dough and slapped it against the board, stretching it out before reaching into the oven and pressing it against the inner wall.
—So he was making flatbreads.
"Fellow Daoist Huang believed his cultivation was profound and his techniques exquisite. After he was invited into that world, all his power vanished in an instant. He fell to the ground and died on the spot," one cultivator said.
"We were trying to figure out how to retrieve his body and lay him to