Outside, the sky was pitch-black.
In the grand hall, Kong Ji was sitting cross-legged on a cushion, tapping a wooden fish and reciting sutras.
Just then, a stumbling old monk rushed into the hall entrance, "Abbot, brother, this is... this is terrible." The old monk said before collapsing to the ground, looking severely injured.
Kong Ji turned around, hurriedly stood up, and helped the old monk up, asking, "Kong Le, what has happened?"
"Abbot, a group of black-clad people suddenly attacked." No sooner had Kong Le spoken than about ten black-clad men appeared at the entrance of the hall.
Seeing this group of unexpectedly arriving black-clad people, Kong Ji furrowed his brows and asked coldly, "Are you Japanese ninjas?" As he spoke, he suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his abdomen, looked down, and saw a dagger stuck there—held by Kong Le.
"Kong Le, you..." Kong Ji stared, his face filled with disbelief, looking at Kong Le in front of him.