The words spoken by Yanyan’s grandmother echoed to fill the entire sect.

Xu Qing didn’t say anything. The Captain and Third Elder Brother both looked at him. Second Elder Sister even stopped sending voice messages to do the same.

Master Seventh looked over his shoulder at Xu Qing, a look of praise on his face. “Well done. You’re just like me back in the day.”

Then he looked at his other three apprentices, frowning in frustration at how they continuously failed to live up to his expectations. That said, his gaze quickly omitted Second Sib, and focused mainly on Big Sib and Third Sib. After thinking about Third Sib for a moment, he ignored him and stared straight at the Captain.

“You could learn a thing or two from your Junior Brother!”

“If I looked like him, I’d be doing fine!” the Captain said gloomily. “Not even magical techniques can replicate little Ah Qing’s face!”

Far gloomier than the Captain, however, was Patriarch Soaring Cloud. As he hovered in the air above the sect, he glared at Guru Eastnether, his expression immeasurably unsightly. It was bad enough that Sir Bloodsmelter was protecting the scum who had harmed the interests of his sect. But it was completely unthinkable that Guru Eastnether, who had long ignored the outside world and never made alliances, was also doing the same thing.

Patriarch Soaring Cloud thought about how his grandson was injured, and might not even survive. He thought about the stolen life lamp,...