Time had rewound to a moment not long before.
In a certain cluttered alley, against a wall corner, Wu Yiyou had left an inconspicuous mark.
This mark was shaped like a tree branch, at first glance, it seemed merely an incidental scratch left by someone. Or perhaps a trace left by the beating of the wind and rain.
A slender figure clad in a black robe passed through the alley, steps light and ethereal, passing by the mark without the slightest pause.
Yet, the figure expertly turned several corners and naturally passed near the courtyard where Wu Yiyou lived.
Of course, he faintly sensed the subtle fluctuations of a battle.
Without observing, without curiosity, without stopping.
This person directly walked past.
As if he had no connection at all to any of this, as if he cared about none of it.
But soon after.
On that unremarkable mark in the alley, on that wall corner, suddenly a green line of fire blazed up.
The eerie green fire instantly consumed the entire mark's pattern!
