After chatting a little longer with Sun Tao and learning that he was close to producing Astral Qi, Xu Yang ate dinner in the Dining Hall before leaving the sect gates.
Evening had arrived. The setting sun hung above the peaks, gilding the Cloud Ridge Mountains, which lay like countless sprawling dragons.
He did not use his Lightness Skill. He merely strode forward, moving as fast as an ordinary person could run.
Some ten kilometers from the gates, he saw two figures standing in the middle of the road against the sunset's lingering glow. Their shadows stretched long, and a faint radiance emanated from their bodies.
"Xu Yang, we've been waiting a long time. Today, you'll pay for the death of my senior brother Zhu Yang," Ji Jincheng said, his face filled with hatred.
The temperature around them plummeted, and a murderous chill spread through the air.
Han Xing's eyes were icy, his gaze locked onto Xu Yang. If Xu Yang dared turn and flee, he would face pursuit by a Martial Artist who had already achieved qi refining into gang.
Xu Yang sighed. "Aren't you afraid passing disciples will see you ambushing me here?"
He had previously thought Han Xing gentle and courteous, like a scholar. He had never expected that to be nothing more than a facade.
There was no grudge between them; they had never even exchanged a word. Yet the killing intent radiating from Han Xing was far stronger than Ji Jincheng's, as though Han Xing were the one with a vendetta against him rather than Ji Jincheng of the Raging Wind Hall.
Ji Jincheng laughed. "Apart from someone like you, assigned to guard duty in the city, who would pass through here at this hour? And so what if someone did see us? Who in