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It was already midnight. Just outside Linxian City, Ye Tianchen sat cross-legged on a large tree. He had already parted ways with the Wudao Saint Child. He furrowed his brow, pondering why he hadn't seen the old man with the smoking pipe. This old guy was most likely the one who framed and ambushed him. Ye Tianchen was almost certain of it. And yet, until he and the Wudao Saint Child, with the help of the Wang family's second young lady, left, Ye Tianchen had not caught a trace of the old man with the smoking pipe, which made him feel a bit strange.
