In Qing Province, inside a certain tavern.
In a corner by the window, a figure wrapped in a gray cloak sat motionless.
The hood of his cloak was pulled down low, completely hiding his face and revealing only the lower half of a weather-beaten chin.
Daoist Fuhai slowly exhaled a turbid breath. The weight on his chest finally eased a bit.
He raised a hand to press his brow, which was throbbing faintly—an aftershock from the backlash of the Divine Soul Restriction.
Just a moment ago, the Restriction planted deep within his Divine Soul had flared up violently, nearly tearing his consciousness apart.
Fortunately, he was prepared. He had activated the Protective Divine Talisman given to him by Chen Sheng in the nick of time, forcefully suppressing the agony that had threatened to consume him.
"Yang Song... He really found out."
Daoist Fuhai muttered to himself, a grave look flashing in his eyes.
