"Master! I've brought the soul lamp of my junior brother!" Wang Yang pulled out a small and exquisite oil lamp from his sleeve. It was finely crafted, with a glass cover surrounding it, and at this moment, the lampwick inside had gone out.
"Swoosh!"
Lu Sanyang snatched the oil lamp and stared at it with widened eyes: "It really went out... The soul lamp has indeed gone out..." Lu Sanyang's eyes began to redden, and his hand holding the lamp started to tremble: "Who was it! Who killed my disciple! Who!!!"
Dongfang Dadao was Lu Sanyang's favorite disciple, and after more than a decade of being together, they had developed a deep affection for each other.
Now that his favorite disciple had been killed, how could Lu Sanyang not be furious, not be angry, not go mad?
...
A tranquil courtyard.
Two men sat on stone stools, chatting and drinking tea in a very harmonious atmosphere. These two men were Dongfang Fengyun and Dongfang Jian.