Silence filled the Main Hall.
In front of the incense burner, a lighter clicked, and He Zheng reverently lit three cigarettes for the statues of the Three Pure Ones.
Smoke drifted through the air as he casually grabbed a handful of Incense Ash and slipped it into his pocket.
After making sure the cigarettes were firmly in place, He Zheng nodded in satisfaction. He was just about to ask Ye Lin what they should do next, but when he turned, he found Ye Lin frowning deeply, his expression grave.
He Zheng had no time to wonder whether the Three Pure Ones enjoyed smoking. His heart tightened, and he immediately grew nervous.
Shit!
Knowing this guy, whenever Ye Lin showed any obvious expression, they were probably in for some suffering.
"Ye Lin, what's wrong?"
"You don't look right. Shit, we're not in trouble, are we?!"
He Zheng asked nervously. As soon as he spoke, everyone else in the Main Hall looked over. Even Li Tianyang, who was meditating cross-legged, couldn't help raising his head.
Ye Lin said nothing. He simply lowered his head to look at his hands.
A deep scar marked his left hand, while his right palm and fingertips bore two wounds.
He had discovered the scars while checking his weapons just now. There was no pain or anything unusual around the wounds, as though they had appeared long ago.
The others gathered around. Seeing Ye Lin staring down at his hands, An Ke followed his gaze and froze.
"Ye Lin, when did you get hurt?"
An Ke looked puzzled. As far as she remembered, they hadn't encountered any enemies with weapons.
"I don't know. I have no memory of it."
Ye Lin spoke quietly. He had been injured before, but he certainly hadn't been cut by a weapon.