Wen Ning stared at him, keeping his guard up.
"You're haunting this illicit shrine, and you still dare claim you haven't done anything wrong?"
The figure raised his hands a little higher and shook his head like a rattle.
"I really haven't done anything wrong! I've just been staying here. I haven't gone anywhere or hurt anyone. I haven't even scared a chicken."
Feng Dema poked his head out from behind Wen Ning's shoulder. Suddenly remembering something, he asked a question.
"A few years ago, did a girl come here and wish to get into university?"
The figure froze for a moment, his dimly glowing eyes blinking.
"Yes, Mingzhu said she wanted to get into university, so I helped her."
Wen Ning frowned.
"Mingzhu? What Mingzhu? Her name should be Fang Zhaodi. I heard Fang Qingqin say that used to be her name."
The moment those words left his mouth, the temple fell silent.
Then the gray-black smoke around the figure surged violently, as though something had set it alight. All his aggrieved meekness vanished at once.
In its place came a resentment so dense it seemed impossible to dispel. It rampaged through the temple, making the dead grass in the corners rustle loudly.
Feng Dema took a step back. Lu Ming's hand had already moved to his backpack strap.
The figure's voice changed. Gone was the dry, hoarse, ingratiating tone. It turned sharp and shrill, each word forced out through clenched teeth.
"Forget Fang Qingqin! Forget Fang Zhaodi! Her name is Wang Mingzhu, and she's my daughter!"
Wen Ning's hand stiffened. His gesture for the Five Thunder Righteous Method halted in midair without unleashing the strike.
He stared at the figure, his pupils contracting slightly.
"What did you say?"
The smoke around the figure swelled, nearly filling the entire