He Tianshu ultimately could not refuse Zhang Xiaohua and brought him, along with the disciples under his command, to the Medicine Hall.
The moment they entered Misty Manor, everyone sensed that something felt different.
They could not say exactly what sort of feeling it was; they simply felt that things were no longer as they had been before.
To say nothing of the guards beneath the archway, who were clearly far more dutiful than usual and questioned Zhang Xiaohua at length—if not for one guard having seen Zhang Xiaohua display his might in the Council Hall plaza and remembered him vividly, Zhang Xiaohua likely would still have found it difficult to enter with only that Huanxi Mountain Villa token.
Once inside the manor, there were noticeably more disciples hurrying along the roads. When Zhang Xiaohua had come before, he had rarely seen Misty Sect disciples gathering in clusters of three or four, huddling together to whisper. Today was different. Along the way, they encountered countless little groups murmuring furtively beneath trees and in corners by the walls, their expressions strange.
If they had all been squatting with little branches in their hands, Zhang Xiaohua might have known what they were doing. But with them merely speaking in low voices, even with his now keen eyes and ears, he could not make out what they said.
Zhang Xiaohua could only look at He Tianshu and the others in puzzlement.
Yet unexpectedly, He Tianshu and the others were just as baffled, like monks measuring a yard with their hands and unable to find the end. Everything had still been perfectly normal when they returned to the sect yesterday. How had things become like this in barely ten-odd hours?
Could something major have happened within the sect?
The same thought flashed through He