Why?
Why were the experts of the four great Martial Sects addressing this young man so respectfully as "Sir"?
Could it be?
This Martial Arts Hall did not belong to Wu Yonghong and the other three at all, and this young man before him was the true power behind the scenes?
He could not help but recall.
What Yao Ling'er had said—that it was this very young man who had ordered someone to use the Swift Cloak as a rag, and this very young man who had treated Jing Wufeng's bones as the dog's Food.
At that thought, Ning Xuanwu found it utterly unbelievable.
Yet no matter how inconceivable it seemed, he felt that this answer was nine times out of ten the truth.
Putting aside the respect Wu Yonghong and the other three showed Yi Feng, Ning Xuanwu, with his Martial King strength, had discovered that he could not see through this young expert's cultivation at all.
He was like an ordinary mortal.
Seemingly plain and unremarkable, yet in truth unfathomably deep!
At that thought, he swallowed hard.
"Sir, he came here to..." After greeting Yi Feng, Wu Yonghong spoke respectfully, clearly intending to report Ning Xuanwu's matter.
"No need to say it. I already know."
Yi Feng waved his hand and said with a smile.
"Sir is indeed formidable. We spoke out of turn." Wu Yonghong and the other three exchanged glances and promptly lowered their heads respectfully. Sir was Sir indeed—though he had not been here, he had long known everything that had happened.
"It wasn't speaking out of turn."
Yi Feng smiled.
When he had just walked out the door, he had happened to hear Chu Kuangshi scolding the middle-aged man kneeling on the ground. Hearing all that talk of seniors and juniors, he guessed they