After a long while, Zhang Xiaohua was growing impatient. Yet when he looked around, the Misty Sect disciples showed no other expression whatsoever. They merely stood respectfully, their eyes occasionally darting toward the end of the passageway.
Zhang Xiaohua immediately felt profound respect for the disciples around him, and he lavishly praised the lofty Misty Sect in his heart as well. What was this? This was the crystallization of the Misty Sect's everyday moral education! Even without any higher-ups present, they remained impeccably disciplined. Zhang Xiaohua felt ashamed of his own inferiority.
Just as Zhang Xiaohua's thoughts were running wild, he saw everyone's gazes converge toward the main road. He hurriedly looked that way too. Unfortunately, Zhang Xiaohua was still rather short, and quite a few disciples blocked his view. Only when the visitors had drawn close did he finally see clearly who had come to visit the Misty Sect's gates during its martial arts tournament.
Walking at the head of the group was not the beloved Great Gang Leader Ou of the Misty Sect, but an elderly monk whose beard and hair were both gray-white. Oh, that was wrong—it should have been his "eyebrows" and beard that were gray-white. Ou Peng stood beside him with a smiling face. Although the old monk was advanced in years, he was still vigorous and alert. His back was ramrod straight, his eyes narrowed, and faint glints occasionally flashed within them as he looked about. From time to time, he surveyed the disciples in the square, his expression exceedingly arrogant, without the slightest trace of a monk's customary compassion.
Ou Peng spoke softly at his side. The old monk merely nodded faintly and did not answer.
Behind Ou Peng stood Deputy Gang Leader Shui Yupeng of the Misty Sect. Zhang Xiaohua did not