By noon, Liu Xuan was hosting another banquet for everyone. This time, however, a few people were noticeably missing—they were some of the martial artists with lower cultivation who had died the previous night.
Wen Qingye still chose a seat in the corner. Liu Xuan, seemingly oblivious to Wen Qingye's presence, chatted with the others, discussing matters concerning the Chaotic Tomb Ridge.
"Brother Wen, why do I feel like that Core Disciple from the Celestial Profound Sect keeps looking over at us?" Fang Yu asked hesitantly.
Wen Qingye smiled. "What's wrong? If he wants to look, just let him."
Fang Yu nodded and said no more, but as he looked around, his eyes kept secretly darting toward the nearby serving girls.
Wen Qingye chuckled to himself. Suddenly, he felt a sliver of sharp, cold killing intent. Though it was just a trace, he still caught it.
