The white lotus bloomed. Dishi Yanluo snorted coldly and waved his sleeve. Following his move, nearly a hundred Yu Clan people, who were standing behind him, all stepped out of the hall.
Along with a deep and loud buzzing noise, the gate of the hall closed. Dishi Yanluo stayed inside that hall alone.
A puff of bright, clear light spots rose from the blooming white lotus, from within that white light, a human silhouette emerged, then stepped out of the lotus. That hazy silhouette gradually became clearer and more real. It was a scrawny, middle-aged man.
That man was wearing a simple, coarse handwoven cloth, feet bared, long hair coiled into two loose buns on his head, tied by two dimly golden ropes, which were thickly covered in golden spell symbols. His left hand was holding a three-foot tall jade bottle, right hand carried an eight-foot long, golden wooden stick. This middle-aged man, who was zhang and three feet tall, expressionlessly nodded at Dishi Yanluo.