Without a doubt, this was the most humiliating day in the lives of Xiao Moji, Ye Lingxu, and the other cultivators imprisoned by the villagers.
"Brother Moji, while those mountain villagers have no time to spare for us, you should leave. Don't worry about us."
A young cultivator bound hand and foot alongside Xiao Moji spoke to him with a grave expression.
This cultivator was none other than Xiao Moji's good friend, Ye Lingxu.
He was also the cultivator who had nearly assassinated the village head, Scholar Liu.
Before Xiao Moji could answer, several cultivators beside them spoke up:
"Brother Ye, you can't leave us behind!"
"Fellow Daoist Moji, we only plotted to assassinate that village head together because we listened to you."
"That's right, Fellow Daoist Moji. You can't abandon us at a time like this."
Xiao Moji sat leaning against a corner, his expression indifferent, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on a shaft of light streaming through the crack in the door.
Only after a long while did he speak to Ye Lingxu amid the clamor, without turning his head:
"When those mountain villagers open the door and come inside, I'll find a way to undo your ropes and hold off the evil ghosts these villagers turn into."
"When that happens, take the other fellow Daoists and leave."
In an instant, everyone in the room fell silent.
Ye Lingxu frowned.
"Brother Moji, what about you?"
Xiao Moji straightened, rested his head against the wall behind him, and let out a long breath.
"Don't worry. I have plenty of ways to survive."
Hearing this, all the cultivators except Ye Lingxu voiced their agreement.
They all praised Xiao Moji's profound Daoist arts and vast divine abilities.
But only Ye Lingxu knew that Xiao Moji, too, had reached the end of the