The night was deep, and Jili Mountain appeared especially cold and desolate.
After three cups of tea, everyone finally saw an old Daoist with a goatee, dressed in sky-blue Daoist robe, swaying into the main hall step by step.
Upon entering the hall, he couldn't recognize Xuan Cuo and Bai Mao and thought they were also high-ranking Foundation Establishment cultivators of the Iron Country.
He then spoke calmly, "Gentlemen, I am Lan Roshu, the Great Elder of the Lancang Tribe of the Water Country, here specifically to point out a clear path for you."
Xuan Cuo put down his teacup and said leisurely, "I wonder what clear path you're referring to?"
Lan Roshu smiled confidently, "Wu Country's Yan Shiyin and the two renegades of Qingxu, they kill people wantonly and have massacred countless Foundation Establishment cultivators."
"If you gentlemen do not plan your paths early, you will surely become nothing but souls under their blades sooner or later!"
