The ancestral hall was deep and secluded.
Moreover.
This place was originally meant to honor the ancestors, making it even more silent. As Ye Qingchen walked along, he felt as if he had stepped into another world, with only the sound of his footsteps echoing quietly around him.
However.
In the main hall of the ancestral hall, he encountered an elder.
The elder's appearance was withered, skeletal, sitting there motionless, like a piece of dead wood, with almost no breath of life. Yet, the gleam in his eyes gave off a dangerous feeling, like a lion sizing up its prey.
"Are you Ye Qingchen, young friend?"
The elder's sharp light in his eyes faded, as he lightly waved his sleeve, pointing to the cushion in front of him: "You are quite skillful, young friend. For the four hundred and sixty-one years since the founding of the Spirit Coffin Sect, we have never suffered such losses. Truly, a formidable youth!"
