Beneath the vast expanse of sky, a crescent moon lingered. The blistering summer was nearly over, and the coolness of approaching autumn was palpable.
In the north of Xinghai City, within an ordinary three-room farmhouse, just a few minutes ago, a man and a bird quietly swept across the sky from dozens of meters above and left the farmhouse.
Standing in the courtyard was a young man with high cheekbones, who had just finished discussing important matters with Jing Liangmu, the Sect Leader of the Nine Saint Demon Sect.
Jing Liangmu had already departed. The matters were not yet concluded; there were important issues still awaiting the vengeance-driven Jing Liangmu to resolve.
Such people are pitiable, their minds clouded by hatred, their lives seemingly possessed by nothing but vengeance. A few words could turn such a person into a blade in one's own hand, to be wielded for personal use.
