The tomb grew quiet, and everyone exchanged glances, their faces pale. They looked at the corpses on the ground and then at the expressionless Ye Qinghong, feeling somewhat fearful in their hearts.
However, considering the legendary cultivation techniques of the Xiu Xian realm, with their profound and immense power, many from the Jianghu couldn't help but become restless.
"Miss Ye, we do not wish to be your enemies. Your strength is indeed formidable, but if we unite, you may not be a match for us. So, hand over the cultivation technique obediently, and we can spare your life."
"That's right, a wise man knows when to submit. It's up to you, your life or the cultivation technique, make your own choice."
"..."
The crowd kept threatening, their tone growing increasingly cold, as they tried to embolden themselves and one another.
Then...
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
Rain began to fall in the tomb, a rain of green hue.
It poured heavily, countless raindrops plummeting down.
