His voice suddenly trailed off, and he appeared apprehensive as he raised his head to look in Yama Hall’s direction. He saw a group of Ghosts in gray file out; they made no noise when they walked, as if their feet never hit the ground, partitioned by air. Both sides stood solemnly. A ghost-faced banner silently rose, billowing viciously in the wind, the hazy, setting sun dying it a blood-like color.

A tall, jade-like man donning long, dark red robes stood on the other side. Hands encased inside his spacious sleeves, his head was down, and he had some inattentiveness, as though he was in a daze whilst he viewed something unknown.

With a raise of his hand, everyone stopped in their tracks along with Zhao Jing, hemming in on observing the man. Looking at the environs, Lao Meng was standing a little further in, nearly overlooked by others while the man in red drew in all gazes. Like he had been disturbed, the latter slowly turned around, allowing them to get a vivid view.

“It’s you?!” Zhao Jing cried out.

Wen Kexing raised his brow. “Ah, Hero Zhao. It’s been a while,” he answered softly.

He had seen Wen Kexing not just once before this, but on this meeting, he felt like the soul inside the other’s shell had been switched out. No matter how he viewed him, he looked grotesque, making him slightly aghast. Wen Kexing slowly descended the stone stairs, and it seemed like every step forward he took had a compelling pressure. Zhao Jing involuntarily took a step back, thereafter forcing himself to bear with it. “You… you’re the…”

Wen Kexing gave a mn. “My trifling, untalented self is indeed that evil-filled boss of the Ghosts that everyone’s been talking about,” he explained, very understanding of the other’s emotions. “I hope everybody can forgive me for all that disrespect from before.”

Zhao Jing had witnessed his moves a few times and knew that his martial arts were decent, yet still wasn’t taking such a young man seriously in any way, merely feeling that something was off about this situation. Before he could think deeply on that, however, someone leapt into the air behind him. “You’re a bastard just pretending to be powerful!” he shouted.

With no time to stop him, Zhao Jing only caught sight of that elder being one of Qingfeng Sword Sect’s ‘Huai’ generation, Mo Huaifeng. Zhao Jing’s thoughts turned around; he knew that because of what had happened with Cao Weining, Mo Huaikong had turned back before the fight. This was Mo Huaiyang scouting for dignity by putting a half-hand out, then quietly shrinking back with the intention to observe from a safe spot.