The practitioner wailed for quite some time, but no matter who questioned him, he wouldn't say a word. He just kept holding his head and begging Yang Zhen not to eat him, not to eat him.
Everyone looked at each other in bewilderment. Several elders and sect leaders from the Great Sect exchanged glances, their faces as dark as water.
"What kind of terrifying ordeal did this disciple go through to be so frightened?" an older, stern middle-aged man asked in a deep voice.
"Tsk tsk, even his wooden tag has been crushed to pieces. He must have experienced something horrifying to be so terrified."
"He mentioned... Yang Zhen?" The middle-aged gentleman flashed a stern look in his eyes, fixating on the young practitioner. Then he sighed, squatted down, and revealed a faint, breezy smile that was extremely affable, making people feel as though they were bathing in a warm spring breeze.