"You..." Seeing this, the dozen or so sect leaders and elders naturally understood these people's crooked little schemes. They stamped their feet and scattered, darting toward the fifty arenas spread across the square.
Fifty arenas were not many, but they were scattered throughout the entire square, and they had to search them one by one. How could they be quick? The dozen or so people had some tacit understanding, each searching a different area. After a while, as they watched the burning incense candles go out, the little holes on the hundred arenas vanished as well. One sect leader watched helplessly as the small hole before him gradually shrank. Panic rising in his heart, he kneaded the slip of paper in his hand into a ball and actually hurled it using a concealed-weapon technique. Seeing that the paper ball was about to fall into the little hole before it completely disappeared, a smile appeared on his face. But at that moment, a gust of "wind" arose from nowhere and blew the paper ball aside. With a smack, it struck precisely where the little hole had vanished!
That sect leader's face immediately turned pale. He stood there blankly, looking at the clear, windless square, then at the crowd beside the arena, all watching his misfortune with delight. His expression promptly turned ashen. He said nothing, merely swept his eyes over every sect beside the arenas one by one. Then, without another word, he turned and returned to Huaiyu Palace.
"What is wrong with that Old Man Xiao?" someone said indignantly in a low voice. "He failed to throw his own slip in, so now he wants to find trouble with others? Looking at him, he is probably blaming that wind on us. Heh heh, perhaps once we leave the Incense-Passing Cult,