The village chief of the Chen Family Village hastily shouted.
As soon as he spoke, the villagers, who had no interest in witnessing the wrath of the heavens, quickly ran back home.
The duel in the void was too high, shrouded by dark clouds. The sky seemed to turn to night, making it impossible to see the battle above, which was quite normal for these ordinary villagers.
Chen Youtie carried the now-recovered Xiuying into the house, swiftly closed the door, and then the two of them exchanged a look. With tacit understanding, they began bowing before a clay sculpture in the room.
The clay sculpture was molded by Chen Youtie himself. If Chen Yuan were present, he would definitely notice that the sculpture bore a three-part resemblance to himself.
Ever since Chen Yuan had cured Xiuying's stubborn illness with a wave of his hand, they had been bowing in tribute every day, without fail.
