A thick, rank stench assailed his nose. Amid the clots of blood that had already dried black across the floor, several deep cuts left by knives and axes were still visible.
Cold winds whistled; strange mist loomed.
The pots, bowls, ladles, and basins in the rear kitchen all reeked of rot and blood...
Chen Heng looked over. Several dingy yellow curtains trailing on the floor partitioned the cramped kitchen into sections.
The noise of his breaking through the door made the people behind the curtains tremble. They timidly poked their heads out to look, and among them was none other than Yu Wanchou, both her arms severed.
"Junior Brother?"
The moment Yu Wanchou recognized his features, she almost wept with joy, her voice suddenly turning shrill:
"You did it! You did it! You really did it! Are those ghosts dead?"
"Sorry for the wait, Senior Sister. Everything is all right now."
Chen Heng swept a hand through the air, shattering her ropes from a distance, then freed the other cultivators of the sect in the same fashion.
These people had been reserved for the wedding banquet's "Martial Feast"-specifically for Miss Yue to swallow alive and strip raw, savoring the taste of fresh flesh and blood.
That was why they had been fed and kept alive until now.
Having finally escaped with their lives, they were overwhelmed by conflicting feelings. Apart from bowing incessantly to thank Chen Heng, all they could do was cover their faces with their sleeves and weep together.
For a time.
Wailing shook the heavens, and their sorrowful cries lingered without end.
Recalling the past, Yu Wanchou could not contain herself either. But after shedding a few tears, she forcibly suppressed her grief and collected herself.
Just then, she suddenly glimpsed what seemed to be a dark