Tang Yan turned around and saw Feng Chenye striding toward him excitedly.
"Brother Feng, how was your haul in the Secret Realm?" Tang Yan asked with a smile.
"Not bad, except there was a ghost in there. It scared the life out of me!" Feng Chenye said, still shaken.
Tang Yan was quite surprised. Though this world had no shortage of supernatural tales and strange phenomena, he had never actually seen a ghost. His interest was immediately piqued. "How did you run into it?"
"A few days ago, I was studying hard by lamplight on a huge rock atop a mountain when inspiration suddenly struck.
"I was just about to take out a table and chair to record it in detail, but when I turned around, I saw a ghost!
"It was absolutely terrifying, dressed in rags, covered in blood, with disheveled hair and a hideous face.
"Its posture was bizarre, too. It had both hands raised high, holding up a large rock, as if performing some sacrificial ritual.
"I was so frightened that I fell straight off the cliff. My Spirit Power scattered, and I nearly fell to my death!" Even though several days had passed, his face still went pale and goosebumps rose all over him as he recalled the experience.
"Were you alone at the time?" Tang Yan asked in puzzlement.
"Ah! I'm not chasing higher Martial Dao realms. I only wanted to read. I thought there wouldn't be any danger, so I didn't hold up my clansmen's search for opportunities. Who knew something like this would happen?" Feng Chenye looked vexed.
Tang Yan's heart gave a jolt. Could the one Young Master Feng encountered have been Zhu Zhao?
Zhu Zhao had been gravely injured, his pockets empty, isolated and without help, while nearly ten thousand people