Although the visiting monk had not been much help in comparing martial skills, he had given Shi Qingjue plenty of experience in recognizing people. The moment he entered Bai Xing Tower and swept his eyes around, he knew that the person with the highest status was the short, burly man seated upstairs.
This judgment was actually not difficult to make. There were dozens of tables of guests upstairs and downstairs. Whenever laughter rang out upstairs, everyone downstairs would chime in. As for the people upstairs, even while drinking and eating, they never forgot to glance toward the short, burly man from time to time, clearly trying to curry favor with him.
Shi Qingjue sauntered over casually, and was mistaken for another invited guest.
"The Iron Mountain Gang are all cowards," he said, waiting for everyone to erupt in fury. Then he would skillfully placate them and show them his "useful" side.
The short, burly man froze, setting his wine cup on the table. He squinted at the stranger. "Kid, are you here to cause trouble? Who gave you the nerve?"
The other party's reaction was not as violent as he had imagined. Shi Qingjue quickly swept his eyes over the other guests. Dozens of vicious gazes, as fierce as Gao Yang's, were fixed on him. They needed only an order from their leader to tear this bold intruder to pieces.
At least he had drawn their attention. Shi Qingjue raised his voice. "Where are the heroes of Iron Mountain?"
This time, it was not only the short, burly man who froze. The others also looked puzzled, glancing at one another, while some began whispering among themselves.
Something was wrong. Shi Qingjue suddenly felt guilty, but he did not want to give up just like that. He still stood there with