Luohu stood just like that, his gaze nailed to Gu Changqing without shifting.
It was an extraordinarily complicated look.
There was hatred, anger, shock, and an indescribable wariness suppressed deep within.
He stood on the clouds outside Golden Ao Island, looking thoroughly disheveled.
He had just spat out a mouthful of blood. Lingering traces of Dao power clung to his robes, and his aura had grown somewhat unstable compared to before.
He had been knocked out by a single palm strike. That was an undeniable fact.
But he had not fled.
More precisely, even if he wanted to flee, it was already too late.
Gu Changqing's palm strike had not been a probing attack.
It was not brute force, but an incomparable certainty.
The certainty of someone who had already calculated every possible choice Luohu could make before his palm descended.
Luohu turned this over and over in his mind, forcing himself to take it in.
After a long while, he gritted his back teeth and spoke in a low voice.
"You... how exactly did you discover me?"
His words held forcibly suppressed anger, along with a stiff bewilderment he could not conceal.
That question had been bottled up inside him for a long time.
With his abilities as the Demon Ancestor, he could conceal every trace of his aura deep within his marrow, deceiving even Sages.
Yet Gu Changqing had called him out with nothing more than a casual remark.
How had he done it?
On Golden Ao Island.
Over a million disciples of the Interception Sect stared fixedly at the figure standing in the void. Not a single one spoke.
Daoist Duobao quietly lightened his breathing.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, he glanced back and forth between Gu Changqing and Luohu, a string within his heart