So it really was all smoke and mirrors! Lu Yuan sneered inwardly.
Ordinary folk might have been fooled by the ghostly green flames and cryptic incantations, but his eyes were sharp. He'd seen perfectly well the furtive movement as Mr. Qingshan sprinkled phosphorus powder from his sleeve.
On the high altar, Mr. Qingshan saw the people below growing ever more fervent and awestruck. The corner of his mouth curled almost imperceptibly in satisfaction.
After today's ritual, he'd be able to rake in another hefty offering. Most of it had to be handed over, but the thirty percent he kept was still enough to let him live it up for a while.
Among the crowd, a few people who still had their wits about them muttered their doubts under their breath.
But some Taiping Sect followers, their faces twisted into menacing scowls, immediately glared at them and threatened in low voices, "What nonsense are you spouting? If you disrupt the ritual again and offend the Immortals, Mr. Qingshan will petition Heaven to punish you!"
At that, the few faint voices of doubt were quickly silenced. The speakers turned pale and shrank back, not daring to say another word.
A few Taiping Sect followers sneered in disdain at the sight.
Amid the oppressive silence, a gruff voice suddenly rang out, clear in everyone's ears. "What, you're allowed to put on this sham of a performance, but no one else is allowed to call you out? You Taiping Sect sure throw your weight around!"
The voice rang out like thunder on a clear day, exploding through the crowd's pin-drop silence and sounding especially jarring.
One burly follower with a fiery temper flushed red. His eyes swept through the crowd like lightning as he bellowed, "Who?! Which gutless rat is yapping from hiding? Get