"Being exploited by the bald monks of Shaoshi Mountain, Zuo Lengchan actually finds joy in this."
"Ambitious, isn't he? But does he think he can provoke Blackwood Cliff too?"
...
...
It was late in the hour of Hai, and the night was slightly chilly.
Crickets chirped hidden in the grass, and night crows flapped their wings as they flew from branch to branch.
The group from Mount Heng had all gathered together.
Everyone was a bit disheveled, Cheng Mingyi had sustained a scratch on his leg while shielding Wei Jin, fortunately, it was just a superficial wound.
Xiang Da'nan's buttocks had been kicked, and Guo Yuying's ankle was sprained.
Zhao Rong's shoulder had been hit by the Demon Cult's judge's pen, initially swelling up, but after he channeled his energy and meditated to regulate his qi and blood, the bruising subsided, and it was nothing serious.
With Nan Shan Shi, the spy, present, he couldn't use cold compresses either.
