It had been ten years since that miserable incident at the Iron Fan Gate. Currently, Shao Bailong, the inheritor of the sect had become the head of the Iron Fan Gate.
Although this Head appeared about forty years old, the hair on both sides of his temples were white. Apparently, to him, the extermination of his family had been a devastating shock.
"Temporary law enforcement plate…" Shao Bailong said with some bitterness, "Dare I ask, are you a disciple from the Nine Raven Temple?"
Qin Wushuang shook his head: "No. Head Shao, it doesn't matter about my background. The important part is do you want revenge, and to behead your foe."
A trace of emotion flashed across Shao Bailong's eyes. He growled: "Do I want? This is such a funny question. In these ten years, even in my dreams I am thinking of how to kill that traitor!"
"Good, then please tell me your most recent information. Within one year, or as recent as half a year, there will be good news."
