"From the Ancestor's words, it seems that the young man is not a disciple of the Crimson Dawn Sect."
Ji He frowned in contemplation, his back facing the mountain path, not realizing that a group of youths happened to be passing by halfway up the hill at this moment.
Ji Beitian glanced at them, initially filled with disdain, but upon seeing the figure of one of the youths, his eyes widened instantly, and his breath caught for a moment.
"Beitian?"
Noticing the change in his son's expression, Ji He swiftly turned around, his sharp gaze sweeping across the youths.
"Cough, cough."
The youths suddenly felt a tremendous oppressive force hit them like a wave, making it difficult to breathe.
"Hmph!"
Lin Qingluo's pretty face turned cold, and she snorted disdainfully through her nose.
The oppressive force enveloping the youths dispersed immediately.
"Hiss."