After leaving the cave, Zhang Xiaohua did not delay any longer. He leaped up and followed the path he had taken before, heading straight for Poyang Town.
But as he flew over the mountain range, he casually swept his divine sense through that lonely Mountain God Temple. A strange expression appeared on his face, followed at once by fury. Reaching into his robes, he drew out Dream Chaser. With a flick of his hand, the little sword shot like lightning toward the Mountain God Temple!
The tiny Mountain God Temple, which had such an extraordinary connection with Zhang Xiaohua, was no longer as desolately quiet as before. Six people were crammed inside. Calling it crowded was not quite right; rather, one man and one woman had been forced into a corner of the temple by four men. The woman's face was deathly pale, one hand clutching her chest as she lay in the corner atop a pile of straw—perhaps the very straw Zhang Xiaohua had slept on years ago. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, with three parts resembling Qiutong. Yet at this moment, her willow-leaf brows were tightly furrowed, her once-waterlike eyes protruded slightly, and her cherry lips were parted wide as she drew breath again and again with all her strength. But... the air she exhaled was far less than what she drew in... That woman... seemed to be at death's door!
"Miss Mei, Miss Mei..." The man stood in front of the woman, seemingly shielding her from the four men before them. But the folding fan in his hand and his thin, weak arms showed that he was merely a frail scholar. How could he possibly withstand those gleaming blades?
Turning back from time to time to look anxiously at the woman, the man waved the folding fan