The setting sun was about to slumber beneath the mountains, the year approaching its end. Most merchants already closed down for the day, even Central Continent City’s most lively streets and alleys who, without all those lanterns and banners, appeared a bit desolate.

Zhang Ping didn’t look at the departing Xu Zhenyan, he only looked at the sky with a bit of mockery. He inwardly thought that even the Changsun Clan in True Dragon Mountain was already like this setting sun’s last glimmer.

Under the quickly approaching darkness, Zhen Kuai knelt down by a street corner. He pulled on his shoes, but in reality, he used his hand to touch some powder on the ground.

After his meeting with that past Purgatory Mountain spy leader, Zhen Kuai who had long left the world of cultivators made a final...

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