“Immortal qi? What on earth is immortal qi?”
Wu Ya and Zhou Datong both heard this and felt puzzled.
That little young master was plainly an ordinary child, looking frail to the point of being sickly—how could he possibly be exhaling immortal qi?
Hu Ma and Old Abacus exchanged a few words and confirmed each other’s suspicions.
Faces, one old and one young, darkened.
Hu Ma had seen xian children before and even come to blows with them, so he was extremely familiar with the thing.
He could be sure the stream of baneful qi the little young master had just exhaled was very similar to the aura those so-called xian carried—only he didn’t understand the full cause and effect.
‘Has the Yan family really grown so arrogant as to dabble with this behind the Ten Surnames’ backs?’ he thought.
Old Abacus’s thoughts ran further; he felt a chill and tugged at Hu Ma, lowering his voice: “If the toad-gu witchcraft that’s circulating in the city really relates to that immortal qi, then the waters of Guazhou run deeper than we thought…”
“Aren’t the signs obvious?” Hu Ma narrowed his eyes and looked up at the city’s leaden sky. “They already talked about the legend of the Snake God temple earlier. It’s not hard to read between the lines.”