"Who is she?"
Out of nowhere, Wang Xian suddenly asked, "Old man, what kind of taboo is hidden here?"
"It cannot be spoken!"
At that, the old man instinctively glanced around. Only after confirming that, apart from the three of them, no one else was lingering nearby
did he point at Ji Wuming and say in a low voice, "At least, I cannot speak of it."
Ji Wuming was startled too. He had only wanted to bring Wang Xian back to the old place and see whether he might remember what had happened in the Sword Tower all those years ago.
Who could have guessed that, by some strange twist of fate, Wang Xian would see another taboo that could not be spoken of?
In an instant, both their expressions turned exceptionally grave.
Ji Wuming silently watched the abyss, which looked like a crack in the world.
Then he gently patted Wang Xian's shoulder and shook his head. "It's a taboo that cannot be spoken of. You're too weak right now. So weak that the moment you hear it, you'll die!"
Wang Xian said nothing and drew a deep breath.
Since the old man and the tavernkeeper didn't want to tell him, no matter how stubbornly he pressed, he probably wouldn't get anywhere.
After thinking it over, he decided to visit the taverns and teahouses in the city tomorrow. There were always some people who couldn't keep their mouths shut, and sooner or later one of them would bring up the old events without thinking.
Just as he was about to let it go and slowly reveal the long-buried matter—
what exactly had happened inside the Sword Tower—
a moment later, he suddenly stiffened where he stood, like a stone statue whose soul had been snatched away.
Beneath the abyss,