"Who did I think it was? Turns out just a fictional demigod. The Dao Master is still too courteous to him. He doesn't even share the same seat with the Dao Master. He should be bowing to you."
At this moment, the Soil-holding Doorwoman spoke.
"The people here were ignorant in the past. Before beings like us brought them glory, they naturally could only regard a small candle flame as divine light," the Vine-holding Doorman said with a smile.
"I just probed his reality. I fear he is nothing more than an ordinary cultivator."
These sarcastic words could be heard clearly by Wu Hen, word for word.
Honestly, Wu Hen did not have the interest to pay them any mind right now...
He walked towards the outskirts of the square, hearing countless people sighing, feeling regretful, and disappointed in him.
Wu Hen did not care at all. When he reached the crossroads, he heard a very familiar voice.
"Xiao Hen!"
"Xiao Hen!!"