"Second Martial Uncle, these are guests the abbot is receiving," the disciple leading Xu Zimo and the others to the meditation rooms hurriedly replied.
"The abbot?" The monk sized up Xu Zimo and the other two before asking suspiciously, "Does Senior Brother Qianjun not know what time of year this is?"
"I am only following the abbot's instructions," the disciple replied, shaking his head.
The monk snorted coldly and looked at Xu Zimo. "What are you doing at Wuhua Temple?"
"That hardly seems like something we need to explain to you," Xu Zimo said flatly.
"We received Abbot Wu's permission. What does it have to do with you?"
"You've got some nerve!" the monk shouted furiously.
He waved a hand, and the might of the Saint Meridian Realm gathered around him.
"Then I'll take you down first, and then go demand an explanation from the abbot."
As the blue-robed monk spoke, his palm had already descended.
The space around him trembled, his momentum astonishing.
King Qin You snorted and directly slapped his palm forward.
"Ant!"
With a boom, endless waves of air rolled outward, and the blue-robed monk was flung away.
"Martial Uncle!" the monks beside him cried out in alarm.
The blue-robed monk got to his feet and looked at King Qin You gravely.
Divine Vein, or Immortal Ascension?
He could not tell just now. That strike alone had left him without the slightest power to fight back.
In the end, the blue-robed monk took a deep breath, said nothing, and turned to leave.
"Tell me, why were you being so polite with them?" King Qin You asked with a frown.
"With our strength, could we not handle a mere Wuhua Temple?"
"It would be bad if we made a spectacle of ourselves," Xu Zimo said, shaking his