The fleeting sentiment vanished. Li Wen's consciousness, like the most precise of probes, instantly pierced through the area's facade.
It locked onto a low-lying shack that seemed ordinary, even more dilapidated than the surrounding structures.
In front of the shack, a stooped, white-haired old man was hunched over.
He was struggling to whittle an old tree root with a chipped, old knife, likely preparing it for firewood.
He had a kindly face, and his wrinkled features even wore the faint, numb smile of someone resigned to their lot in life.
To any observer, he was just a harmless, pitiful old man who had weathered the vicissitudes of life.
However, deep within those seemingly murky eyes, Li Wen used the Insight of the Star Core.
He clearly captured a painstakingly hidden trace of bizarre demonic qi—a remnant from cultivating the Shadow's vile arts, one that shared the same origin as the Demon Race.
