Cheng Xinzhan followed the servant who led the way to a courtyard halfway up the mountain.
The thin Daoist’s plan fit perfectly with what he wanted.
Let those devils fight among themselves — the more vicious the fight, the better; the more who die on both sides, the better.
He could throw out a few suggestions to stir the pot, but he didn’t need to be in the thick of the slaughter.
At this moment Cheng Xinzhan had no interest in anything else.
He cared most about what was happening inside his Heart Mansion.
Now that he was at Pen Rack Mountain in the center of the island, the surging of his heart-blood was ten times fiercer than when he first set foot on the island!
If he let it go on like this he wouldn’t be able to calm himself.
He had to find out the truth.
He rested until night, then walked out of the courtyard.
The blue glow on Di-Yin Island was even more pronounced now; everything under the blue wavering light looked ghostly and dim.
Now that he held the island’s token and had been personally appointed by the Thin Daoist as the strategist of the Star-Plucking Hall, Cheng Xinzhan felt fewer restraints in his heart, and so he swaggered toward the island’s west shore.