"The mute wouldn't speak until some salt was sprinkled over his pancakes."
A Buddhism chant rang out from the thin mist.
A figure walked out from the mist slowly.
It was a man dressed in ordinary simple-colored clothing with a Taoism bun.
A thin wooden sword hanging above his head pierced through the mist and moved forward without making any noise.
It was exactly the World Wayfarer of Haotian Taoism, Ye Su, with his accompanying sword.
Second Brother stood up slowly.
He had been sitting back-to-back with Fourth Brother for the whole night.
Without sleeping at all for a whole night, he could not conceal the expression of exhaustion between his eyes and brows.
While hearing the Buddhism chant ringing out from the mist, everyone in the Academy showed a wary expression on their faces, even with a touch of anxiety.
"Sprinkle more salt on the pancake."