With that said.
He scrambled and crawled out of the inner residence.
The old man sprinted all the way, passing through layers upon layers of corridors.
He went straight to the Ma Clan's most secret ancestral shrine and stopped before the cushion beneath the offering table.
Lying prone on the ground, he reached out and lifted an inconspicuous blue brick.
From the hidden compartment, he took out a stone box.
The stone box was freezing cold to the touch.
Even through its thick stone walls, he could still sense the tyrannical aura of yin and yang merging within.
Water-Fire Cold Smoke Coal.
This was what Wu Shisan had left behind with the Ma Clan all those years ago.
Ma Dewang looked at the stone box in his hands.
His old eyes were clouded.
His heart was a tangled mess of emotions.
Yet he dared not delay for long.
He clutched the stone box tightly to his chest, turned, and ran outside.
The sky gradually darkened.
The festive music from the front courtyard still drifted faintly through the air.
Ma Mansion was clearly hung with bright red lanterns everywhere.
Yet in Ma Dewang's eyes, there was not the slightest trace of celebration.
He hurried back along the quiet corridor.
The room lit by red candles was right before him.
Demon Emperor Juechen was still waiting inside.
Ma Dewang drew a deep breath.
Just as he was about to enter the room.
He suddenly sensed a chill rising behind him without warning.
He instinctively turned around.
Within the shadows of the covered corridor.
At some unknown time, a slender figure had appeared.
Black robes fluttered faintly in the night wind.
She did not possess the hideous, terrifying face of a demon.
Yet she exuded a dread far greater than any demon could