After confirming the situation, Chen Mouguang abandoned his plan to attack Zhou Mountain Village again.
It was not because he believed in returning courtesy for courtesy or had lofty moral standards.
Rather, their operation had already been seen through, and reinforcements from Wuxuan Temple might already be on the way. Although the God of Slaughter personally acknowledged by Bai Xuanling was present, there was still no need.
After all, they had not come away empty-handed.
Besides, since his identity as a member of the Heavenly Derivation Sect could remain secret for now, he might as well keep it under wraps a little longer.
As for Chen Baiqing using illusions to impersonate Bai Xuanling, that could not serve as evidence at all.
Never mind that such evidence would not hold water. Surely someone could not be made to take the blame just because another person used an illusion to impersonate them?
Even setting that aside, if someone used that excuse to demand that Bai Xuanling own up, the way Bai Xuanling did so would probably be rather wild.
The Yongping Funeral Parlor, in western Wei'e City.
Chen Baiqing had already projected a proportionally scaled illusion of the ritual inside the room.
At the same time, she was drawing the ritual's patterns by hand.
Chen Mouguang sat casually on a coffin lid. He knew little about rituals, so looking would do him no good. Better to let the knowledgeable members of the team examine it.
His gaze traveled up and down Zhou Ping, who looked somewhat ill at ease.
Perhaps that had something to do with the rather frightening-looking paper figure standing beside Zhou Ping.
Although things had deviated greatly from the plan, and they had not turned the place upside down.
They had somewhat beaten the grass and startled the snake,