A quarter of an hour later.
Deep within Heavenly Peace Ancient Stockade, in a spacious, somewhat dim courtyard.
Ye Li had been given the seat of honor.
The chair beneath him was draped in red brocade. Though it looked rather old, it was still a rare luxury in this stockade.
The stooped Third Elder stood respectfully beside him, holding a cup of coarse tea with a metallic sweetness.
"Venerable Immortal, this wretched place is barren, and the demons have plundered us year after year. We truly have nothing decent to offer."
With an ingratiating smile, the old man set the Spirit Tea beside Ye Li:
"This is brewed from a Spirit Tea unique to our stockade. It is quite beneficial for replenishing blood and vitality. Please forgive its quality."
Ye Li lowered his gaze and glanced at the blood-red tea.
There were no unusual ingredients in it.
They had not even dared add the slow-acting poison that could silently dissolve a cultivator's Immortal Power.
That was only natural.
After all, they lacked the courage to poison someone who could instantly kill a great demon of the Dao Holder Realm.
"Thoughtful of you."
Ye Li's voice was calm, but he did not reach for it.
He merely tapped his fingertips lightly against the table, producing a series of rhythmic sounds.
At a time like this, kindness often failed to solve anything.
Only by maintaining the bearing expected of someone above them could he give these people enough reassurance.
Provided, of course, that they were not planning to turn on him.
Tap! Tap!
Amid that suffocating tapping, cold sweat gradually beaded on the Third Elder's forehead.
His eyes shifted slightly. After what seemed like considerable deliberation, he ventured:
"Might I ask... which faction you hail from, Venerable Immortal?"
"You killed even that