Confusion first crossed Wei Qingfeng's fat face, followed by sudden understanding, before finally turning into undisguised contempt and disgust.
He pointed at Zhang Yuan as though he had recognized a stray dog he had not seen in years and burst into laughter, the fat on his belly jiggling as he said:
"I wondered who it was. So it's the homeless cur my Wei Family threw out all those years ago!"
"Zhang Yuan! You're still alive? We broke your legs and tossed you out of Qinggang County, and you actually managed to crawl back?"
Wei Qingfeng took two steps forward and berated him without restraint:
"All we did back then was ask you to gather a few stalks of treasure medicine in the mountains, and you dared refuse? We only taught you a lesson. Now that you've joined the Nine Evil Sect, a worthless wretch at the peak of the inner qi realm like you dares bark at me?"
"You really think you're someone important now?"
Standing among the crowd, Yi Yang frowned as he listened to Wei Qingfeng's words. Has this man lived in pampered comfort so long that his brain has rotted?
As a true astral realm cultivator, could he not sense the faint auras emanating from the four black-robed figures beside the Blood Pool?
Those were four genuine true astral realm cultivators.
One of them had a deep, steady aura and had already reached late true astral, making him the strongest person present.
Faced with a lineup like this, Wei Qingfeng still dared adopt such a lofty attitude and humiliate a madman who had returned from hell for revenge.
Yi Yang glanced again at the tattooed cultist named Zhang Yuan.
Zhang Yuan. Old Third Zhang.
Zhang Laosan.
No wonder that ordinary old man surnamed Zhang had been accepted