Ye Baiyi’s eyes swept on over. He nearly didn’t see who it was that had spoken — it turned out to be Feng Xiaofeng, who had never sat upon Gao Shannu’s shoulders ever since the latter went blind, instead acting as his eyes and constantly looking out for him. He still had the look of a thorntip that could explode with one bump, and gave no one any face. If ranking with the top in terms of mean words, he could be called a tyrant of jianghu, but he still held some affection for his Gao Shannu.

“I’m not joking around,” Ye Baiyi answered.

“He’s the one that stirred up this situation, right?” Gu Xiang asked Cao Weining, voice hushed.

Zhang Chengling had followed the others to the Puppet Manor in Shuzhong. He knew something of the sequence of events, and whispered to them. “That… Senior Ye… is not a ‘Young’ Hero. He’s really old, and said to be the master of Rong Xuan that had died thirty years ago.”

After that, he explained to them what he knew.

The other three stared back at him for a long time, after which Gu Xiang sighed. “By my own grandma… how long has he been alive? He’s like a tortoise!”

Witnessing her no longer speaking human language, Cao Weining quickly cut her off. “So, that’s to say that the most crucial object in the arsenal is actually… Elder Ye? He came down the mountain, heard about the Lapis Armor, and then went to inquire after the old truth?”

Gu Xiang tugged at him, pointing at the people below. “Hey, look. They’re starting to fight.”

The four moved their heads out from behind the boulder at the same time, carefully observing.

This squad of righteous martial artists all individually harbored their own ulterior motives to begin with; so, of course, there was also a subset incorporated within them that was particularly stupid. They had legitimately been duped by Zhao Jing, resolving to behead evil Ghosts for the sake of the common folk. Ye Baiyi’s words had been a rock smashing down, sending off a thousand waves.

Some people whispered in suspicion, while even more were instigated by those who wanted them to be. Ye Baiyi’s search for a beating roused the mob into rebuking him in a rage. “From how I see it, that guy’s a problem,” one said. “He had been sought out by Gao Chong, and was always following him in Dongting. He has to be his crony!”

Ye Baiyi had always been a gentleman that acted, not spoke. Hearing this, he pulled out a horse whip, and the one in question got a clear view of it coming towards his face, yet still wasn’t able to dodge. He got roughly whipped flying, which left a blood-red mark on his face —a symmetrical one.