As news of the murdered Dao Foundation Cultivator spread among the low-level Cultivators, all sorts of rumors began to fly.
An indescribable mood permeated the air above Yunjing Island.
Doubt!
Panic!
...
Even Zhu Ju couldn't help but be affected. For several days, his cultivation of the Sword Formulas made no progress whatsoever.
The Drunken Daoist still hadn't returned.
Without such a well-informed source, he had no idea what was happening on the island, but he had a nagging feeling that something was wrong.
The Dark Workshop.
Zhu Ju followed a familiar path to an inconspicuous shop and cupped his fists toward the old man busy behind the counter.
"Fellow Daoist, you've arrived."
The Shopkeeper greeted him with a smile.
"Miss Dong is already here. She's in Room A-3."
CREAK...
Pushing the door open, he saw Dong Ping, dressed in a practical Magical Robe. She was cupping her cheek with one hand and toying with a teacup with the other, lost in thought.
