Murong Hanxuan bypassed Ye Lin and bluntly asked.
"May I ask what relationship you two have with those two...?"
The little old man's heart skipped a beat when he saw Murong Hanxuan's aggressive bearing, as though he had thought of something unpleasant.
"Friends."
Murong Hanxuan forced out a smile, but to the little old man, that smile was no different from a demon's grin.
After so many years of dealing with people, he saw through the man's intentions at a glance. He was here to settle a score.
"Esteemed guest, our Myriad Treasure Pavilion's influence spans the entire Northern Frontier. We are a first-rate power. If you have come to do business, our Myriad Treasure Pavilion naturally welcomes you with open arms. But if you have come to cause trouble, I would advise you not to make trouble."
The little old man spoke with a smile. Though his voice was gentle, it carried a thick undertone of threat.
"I only want to ask where those two went, and yet you—"
Halfway through, Murong Hanxuan stopped himself, because he had spotted his target.
Ahead, two figures came down the stairs one after the other, walking toward them. A woman led the way, with a man following behind.
One in front and one behind—the woman honored, the man humble. It seemed to be Tang Qingru and her little lackey.
Seeing this, Murong Hanxuan no longer hesitated. He sent the little old man flying with a single slap.
Before the little old man could react, he felt the world spin around him. Then he lay amid rubble, his fate unknown.
He was merely the manager of a tiny branch pavilion, with only the pitiful cultivation of the Spirit Transformation realm. How could he possibly withstand a slap from Murong Hanxuan?
Even an ordinary