In Pingye State, inside a concealed bungalow.
A sturdy man in his forties sat cross-legged and shirtless, his body drenched in sweat.
His breathing was heavy and ragged, much like that of a wild beast.
The scar on his left cheek, resembling a centipede, writhed slowly, sending chills down one's spine.
Beside him stood a young man with a face as fair as jade, standing silently without a word.
Facing the two men was a large screen.
On the screen, a man cloaked in a mantle, his face concealed behind a thick mask, emitted a sinister laugh.
"Xing Hu, who would have thought that in just one week, you've completely recovered from the injuries that old fellow inflicted on you. That is indeed quite commendable."
"Hm-hm-hm-hm, you're in such a rush to find me, I suspect it's not just to offer congratulations, now is it?"
"You really can't be fooled, can you? Today I bring you some rather unsettling news. Your nemesis, Mu Changchun, isn't dead."
"What?! Impossible!"
