Xing Lang was here. Rather than let Xing Wuliang off the hook after he returned to his master’s mountain, Xing Lang had decided to bring the fight to him.

Lu Yun took a surreptitious look at Xing Shenzuo—he held his forehead with his hand and a wry smile played at the corner of his lips. Xing Wuliang had said that his master had been beaten up by Xing Lang’s master when they were young. If Xing Shenzuo also couldn’t stand up to Xing Lang, then Xing Wuliang would still suffer a beating despite being a grandmaster.

“Are… you not going to do anything?” Lu Yun looked askance at Xing Shenzuo.

Though Xing Wuliang wasn’t his most beloved head disciple, it would be a direct slap to his face if one of his disciples was beaten black and blue...