The street outside the Observatory was a far cry from its usual quiet, now bustling with activity.
On the ground lay a group of Cultivators. In the Jianghu of the Great Zhou Country, such a sight would have been enough to cause a major sensation.
At this moment, however, the group was lying on the ground, unconscious.
Each person was covered in wounds, their clothes torn and tattered—a miserable sight.
"Just asking for directions." The expression on the white-robed man's face was utterly sincere, and he even made a gesture with his hand.
If it weren't for the stiff expression on the old man's face beside him, one might have actually believed him.
The old man felt that his Young Master had suddenly seen the light.
If he'd stubbornly insisted on a challenge in this situation, never mind the Young Master—even he himself would have been hauled away on a cart.
Hadn't he seen that the guardian was already wiped out?
