Inside the stone tower, everything was pitch-black. Only seven lamps burning on the ground illuminated a pitifully small area.
Under the dim yellow lamplight, a withered old man sat upright. His eyes were sunken, and he looked like a lifeless skeleton.
As if sensing Ye Yu's arrival, the old man raised his head, his vacant eyes falling upon Ye Yu's face.
The moment he saw Ye Yu's features, a light burst from his eyes. "This face—it's this face! This was the face I saw back then! I've finally waited for you!"
Ye Yu frowned and walked over to the old man. The seven oil lamps before him immediately dimmed, yet the old man seemed not to notice, staring fixedly at Ye Yu's face.
But soon, the old man's expression shifted slightly. Ye Yu's face seemed somewhat different from the one he had once seen.
Unfortunately, that glimpse had been as fleeting as a startled swan, and he could only recall the rough outline.
"It should be you. It must be you. What I saw may not have been who you are now," the old man suddenly muttered.
Ye Yu was left feeling as though he were lost in the clouds and mist.
Murong Chen snapped back to his senses at that moment and hurriedly said, "Sit, sit, sit down. Let's talk slowly."
"How did you end up like this?" Only after approaching Murong Chen did Ye Yu sense the unimaginably vast power within him. It felt no weaker than Ye Hedao had been back then.
A Mahayana Stage cultivator!
Murong Chen gave a bitter smile. "I observed the Mandate of Heaven, saw too much, and was punished for it. Come to think of it, I am a sinner. I should never have tried to glimpse the Xu family's future. In