Jian zhuyu felt her grandfather’s disgusted gaze. She was both afraid and hateful. She hated the dead Xiao Lianqiao and hated the mastermind behind the scenes. She also hated Yan Qingcheng.
She felt that if Yan Qingcheng had not provoked her, she would not have sent guards. Therefore, Yan Qingcheng could not escape the blame.
There were people like this in this world. They would always blame others for the cause. Moreover, they even felt that they were very innocent and very reasonable.
Since the matter had come to an end temporarily, there was no need for everyone to stay here.
However, Master Wuzhao of the Ten Thousand Buddhas temple frowned. He kept twirling the Buddha beads in his hand:
“Amitabha. This penniless monk feels that the corpse aura here is a bit heavy. It’s similar to the corpse aura in the bloodthirsty Insect Valley.”