Meanwhile, in the wilderness, within a quiet, dilapidated temple, the wind suddenly began to howl.
A flame unexpectedly blazed to life on the temple's dusty floor. The surrounding weeds and dust scattered uncontrollably in all directions, like snowflakes in a biting wind.
Han Sancheng walked in, hunched over, and sat with a smile before the bonfire. "They've all dispersed," he said.
The ruined temple remained quiet, the only sound being the dilapidated wooden door creaking as it swung open and shut in the wind.
Han Sancheng seemed to be talking to the air. "That kid has a few tricks up his sleeve. He played the fools from the Taiqing Sect and the Nine Peaks Sect like fiddles. It was laughable to watch!"
CRACK!
A dry branch in the fire snapped with a crisp sound, sending a few sparks flying.
The firelight flickered across Han Sancheng's deeply furrowed face. He seemed to remember something. "If you wanted to save him, why didn't you let me do a thorough job of it?"
