Yang Qing and the others left the little courtyard, now battered beyond recognition, and suddenly noticed that more people had gathered around them.
The townsfolk who had vanished earlier were returning one after another, but there was not a trace of expression on any of their faces.
Many had lost loved ones in the earthquake. Though they themselves had survived, many were injured.
On top of that, half the houses in Xiangyang City had been destroyed, and many of those houses had belonged to them.
Now, robbed of both their loved ones and a place to shelter, they had nothing left in their eyes but the upturned stare of dead fish.
Yang Qing did not know whether he was imagining it, but he saw faint wisps of black energy swirling around their shoulders.
The black energy drifted out of their bodies, slowly gathered in midair, then floated in the same direction.
Yang Qing remembered that the City Lord's Mansion lay in that direction.
He knew its location well because he had dealt several times with Young Master Shen, the City Lord of Xiangyang City.
The black energy around these people was very faint, little more than a wisp, but however faint it was, once enough gathered together, its color became unmistakable.
Eventually, not only Yang Qing but also Bu Er and Jiang Zhizhou could see those streams of black energy soaring into the sky.
"Young Master, it looks as though what you said earlier may well be true."
Yang Qing had already suspected that the Sacred Emperor had allowed the townsfolk to suffer without intervening because he had other plans.
Now that they had clearly witnessed this astonishing sight, it seemed the Sacred Emperor really had put that method into practice.
Looking at the grief and bewilderment on the townsfolk's