"What's wrong?"
Du Youqian asked himself. 'Although my Cultivation is about the same as the Beautiful Daoist Wu Ai's, my Divine Sense is far stronger than hers. And thanks to my high-level Divination Art, my intuition should also be much stronger than hers. But I haven't sensed anything amiss.' But Du Youqian didn't dare to dismiss it. 'This world is full of extraordinary people; perhaps Wu Ai has some special talent.'
Wu Ai's willow-leaf brows curved into a sorrowful arc.
Her eyes, bright as stars in the night sky, were now clouded with mist, their light hidden as if by dark clouds.
"Martial Uncle Wu Jiu... has fallen!"
Du Youqian was stunned. "Impossible. Who could kill him? Who would *dare*?"
He was more suspicious of how Wu Ai could have sensed Wu Jiu's death from thousands of miles away.
