He Ziang laughed miserably, and there seemed to be a hint of self-deprecation in his eyes.
"This is a secret technique you created?"
Jiang Ming realized something, and his eyes were sharp.
"What do you think?" He Ziang asked with a smile. "If you think it's me, then it's me. If it's not me, then it's not."
"That is," Sikong Wuyuan hated his evasive answer. "It doesn't matter whether it's you or not. The green-skinned man is already dead. No matter what, you wouldn't let his corpse rest in peace. You're not a good person."
When Jiang Ming asked, he had already confirmed in his heart that it was He Ziang who had come up with the secret technique. It was just that he did not know who the person behind He Ziang was.
He Ziang smiled mysteriously.
"It seems that you've already decided. But it doesn't matter. He's not dead. He'll come looking for you."
As he spoke, he took out a black cloak and covered himself.