That day, people shouted: Senior Brother Gao Sheng must die

Night deepened.

By now, there were no tourists left in the Forbidden City.

Northern River's Loose Cultivator silently turned off his phone screen and sighed—despite typing as fast as he could to warn Mad Saber Three Waves, he had still been a step too late.

Three Waves was beyond saving.

When it came to courting death, the fellow had the memory of a goldfish. He forgot the pain before his wounds had even healed. And lately, he had been pushing his luck more and more... could this be Fellow Daoist Three Waves' "Dao"?

A moment later, Northern River's Loose Cultivator looked at the towering Forbidden City before him, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"On that day in early September, I'm definitely giving that crooked fortune-teller a surprise." Northern River's Loose Cultivator's lips curled upward. He could hardly wait to have a proper battle with that crooked fortune-teller.

When the time came, he would make sure the crooked fortune-teller learned the meaning of despair!

"What a shame. A battle on the night of a full moon would have so much more atmosphere. Also, how many fellow daoists will come to watch?" Northern River's Loose Cultivator wondered.

Naturally, the more spectators, the better. Beating the crooked fortune-teller senseless in front of everyone would be even more satisfying. Just thinking about it gave him a little thrill.

But... if too many people came to watch, Northern River's Loose Cultivator feared the crooked fortune-teller might not dare show up. That fellow's Disguise Technique was unparalleled, and he often disguised himself as other fellow daoists to tell crooked fortunes, offending plenty of people along the way. If there were too many spectators and he mistook it for a trap to capture him, his refusal to appear would be a problem.

"Phew..." Northern River's Loose Cultivator