Jiang Wang's hand froze in midair as he pushed the door.
One surprise after another could not possibly all be accidents.
Who was targeting him?
And how had they discovered him?
Jiang Wang asked himself: these past days in Zhao Kingdom, he had scarcely stepped beyond the gate, let alone done anything that might expose his identity. There should have been no chance of discovery during this period. If someone had found him, it ought to have been through earlier clues.
But if whoever was manipulating things from the shadows had already known his whereabouts, why wait until today to make a move?
And what method lay behind this whole string of "accidents"? Why could he detect no fluctuations of Dao Essence, no trace whatsoever?
These questions surfaced in his mind, while the hand Jiang Wang had paused in midair had already gripped a sheathed longsword.
The Dragon God Wood scabbard possessed an ancient, unadorned form, yet Longing's sharpness had already pierced through the sheath.
Sword in hand, Jiang Wang strode out the door—
Whoever it was, he had to face them. And with these "accidents" constantly occurring while he was being targeted, he did not wish to implicate innocent people.
Outside the room was a corridor. Jiang Wang swiftly turned aside. He suspected that if he remained here any longer, the entire inn would collapse.
But at that moment, a small knife suddenly appeared before him.
The little knife had a most peculiar form, and it had appeared in an equally peculiar manner.
Jiang Wang sensed neither any fluctuation of power nor the manner of its appearance... whether it had flown in from somewhere, materialized by some means, or torn through space to arrive.
In any case, by the time his gaze caught it, the little knife was already