On the platform stood ten men in black.
Their auras turned icier as one.
The heads wrapped in black cloth bulged and stood up in odd ways, making their silhouettes look grotesquely unbalanced.
In the main hall of the old Guanjiangshou temple, the yellow-bearded man’s veins stood out, his eyes bloodshot.
His fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.
The long-haired youth didn’t look especially enraged, but his gaze darkened, as if a fresh wound had been torn open to reveal rot beneath — there was a shameful, stinging anger there.
The Yu clan had long since been overthrown by the beasts their family kept.
Back in Lijiang, the Yu family young miss Yu Miaomiao that Li Zhuiyuan had met in person was, at heart, a cat demon.
Later in Dujiangyan, the Yu family had also sent people.
Li Zhuiyuan still remembered the special look of that group — it should be the same as the ten men in black now in front of him: people of the Yu family, but completely controlled, with beasts perched upon their heads.
Laughably, the beasts had taken the throne and enslaved humans, but in their own eyes they were still the Yu family — still pretending to be the Dragon King’s household.
Yet even they knew that the jianghu wouldn’t really have them.
So they kept the Dragon King Yu flag while doing shady things all the same.