Xiao Yan and Yao Lao had turned completely to stone in the distance. Xiao Yan silently raised his oil-paper umbrella a little higher. He swore he would bathe ten times with sulfur soap when he got back!
Yet Yao Lao suddenly spoke in a strange, almost eager tone.
"Heh heh, this brat's methods may not be fit for polite company, but the results... tsk, tsk, they really are instant. If we ever run into Han Feng, we must have this brat give him a full course of this 'all-around, three-dimensional' care!"
Xiao Yan froze at his words. Han Feng? Who was that? From Teacher's tone, he seemed to hate this man to the marrow... Teacher's... traitor?
Driven by intense curiosity, he turned his head almost instinctively and quietly asked the soul beside him.
"Who... is Han Feng?"
Almost the instant Xiao Yan asked, Yao Lao hurried to answer, with a trace of wariness and concealment.
"No one important. Just some worthless scum. I'll tell you more when we have the chance."
Though Yao Lao claimed it was nothing, his thoughts had already drifted far away. He began imagining how "spectacular" the scene would be if he really had Xiao Yi "entertain" Han Feng.
With Xiao Yi's imagination galloping freely across the heavens, he might even devise new moves with greater "lethality" and "humiliation."
Imagining Han Feng's hypocritical face smeared with unspeakable substances, his expression utterly terrified as he wailed for his father and mother, Yao Lao felt a surge of vengeful satisfaction.
Though actually seeing his former "beloved disciple" tortured would still pain Yao Lao, and he would certainly speak up to persuade Xiao Yi to stop, Xiao Yi hardly seemed the sort to obediently do so.
Yao Lao silently muttered to himself, *Hmph, Han Feng, just you wait. One