The small temple was destroyed, and Jiang Yanyan was getting riled up too.
He surfaced from the water, golden mace in hand, striding across the waves, going against the current. He looked absolutely imposing.
He swept the golden mace down into the water. Instantly, the raging torrent looked like a mad dog receiving a blow to the head—it settled right down and became obedient.
The river calmed, and the mountain critters that had gotten swept into the water were carried back to shore with the current.
Pushed forward by the waves, Jiang Yanyan shot upstream. With every mighty blow of his mace, it was like underwater mines exploding—thick resentment congealed into rolling black smoke, rising violently into the sky.
But as soon as that black smoke started to climb, it got forcefully evaporated by the fierce Yang Qi. Under the bright blue sky and blazing sun, the black smoke barely made it a few meters before it began to be evaporated and purified.
