This white-faced black-robed man’s name was Xue Changxiao. [1. Changxiao means long laughter.]

However, no one had ever seen him smile before.

He was lord from the fourth hall of the Senluo Temple, a direct disciple of that hall’s master and someone who represented the will of the temple.

The heretical successors have shown themselves once more. Everyone here was speechless and pressured by his sinister aura.

Even the lights on the boats were turned off. The young prodigies all converged their auras. If possible, they didn’t want to be involved with the Heretical Schools.

“Whoosh!” Another shadow rushed forward from the sky. He was holding a miniature palace and landed next to Xue Changxiao.

“Third, you are late!” Xue Changxiao stood on the lake as if he was standing on the ground. Snow continued to fall on his long hair without melting.

Falling snow was very beautiful indeed. However, when the flakes landed on his hair, it gave off a sad emotion as if he was...