Another morning arrived. Yu Chen stepped out of Quiet Lodge, glanced at a mountain peak not far away, then withdrew his gaze and, as usual, breathed in violet qi, giving rise to rosy light that washed through the surrounding lands.
"Looks like this Daoist Yu Chen has noticed us. What do you all think?"
A young man in fitted martial clothes gazed toward Yu Chen and spoke lazily, his eyes sweeping over the three "companions" beside him.
The Daoist with half-black, half-white hair and beard pinched the neatly combed goatee beneath his chin and said irritably, "What do you mean, what do we think? That depends on how far he intends to go. Wang Wu, don't tell me a Martial Madman like you wants to duel him. If you want to go, go yourself."
"Daoist Luo, you truly know how to joke. The sixth-rank foundational divine artifact this Daoist Yu Chen condensed should be that Quiet Lodge. I may not be able to see what his foundation is, but with such a massive grotto-heaven artifact, even a blind man could sense it. I like fighting, not getting beaten. Fighting him within his own grotto-heaven blessed land? I'm not that stupid."
"Then why say so much?" As he spoke, Daoist Luo, who had been watching Yu Chen, sniffed. Seeming to notice something, he tightened his grip on his beard and plucked out several hairs. The pain made his whole body tremble. He placed the hairs in his palm, wearing a heartbroken expression.
The woman beside them, dressed wholly in white, beautiful beyond compare and cold in temperament, took two steps aside. As her skirt swayed, magnolia blossoms bloomed one after another, sealing out the deathly qi gathering around them.
Wang Wu suddenly leaped up. Blood qi surged around him, while strange