It was a rainy night when Qingliang Valley was surrounded by the purple-robed disciples of Blackwater Fort.
Ghostly rain sprinkled the empty grass, fishy wind stopped the chaotic clouds, pine torches were swaying in the rain, and large groups of shadows silently surrounded the cool valley.
The stone tablet in front of the valley, on which Ethan once sat and drank during the day, had been broken into two pieces and collapsed completely.
The Lord of Blackwater Fort had a gloomy face and shouted in a stern voice, "Hand over Wen Xuechen!"
Inside the valley gate, Wen Xuechen frowned and asked the disciple beside him: "Master hasn't come out of retreat yet?"
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