Wang Ye focused intently on listening.
"Wang Ye, no matter how powerful, is still human. The poison we produce at the Tianlan Sect is renowned worldwide; even immortals would die if they drank our poison."
"Using poison to kill Sect Master Wang is somewhat despicable. Why don't we just fight him head-on and kill him?"
"Hehe, if a problem can be solved with intelligence, there's no need to use brute force."
Ten miles away in the distance.
A middle-aged man with a mustache, a scar on his face, holding a curved sword, displayed a vicious gleam in his eyes.
He wore a snow-white robe, embroidered with a sun—a symbol unique to the Tianlan Sect.
This man was a third-generation disciple of the Tianlan Sect, Chuantian Guihai.
Another woman wore a crop-top leather robe, her jet-black hair contrasted against her somewhat coarse features.
