Inside the Eight-Direction Dining Hall.

Apart from Zhang Chenlin, who left at once by cloud, everyone else followed Miss Mei back to this place. In truth the numbers hadn't changed much — most people hadn't entered the estate to begin with, and only a few dozen had died in all. But the atmosphere was worlds apart. Far less lively than before.

Shen Yi found a corner and sat down as usual, only now with Chen Zhong and Aqing added to his side. Merely holding a teacup, he drew countless gazes from the shadows.

Earlier, with Perfected Master Qingfeng present, the youth had naturally been the focus of all attention. But now that the other had gone upstairs, among those remaining, the figure who'd come out leading a company of Mixed Origin powerhouses couldn't help arousing no small curiosity. The man had come by cloud, and the aura he'd revealed, though Mixed Origin, stopped only at entry-level. What exactly had happened inside the estate, to make nearly every surviving Grandmaster treat him with such respect, even calling him Senior? They said he'd shielded everyone's lives from three demon kings — could it be he'd slain them all? That was too terrifying by far.

The place where Shen Yi sat was plainly a corner, but under the cultivators' postures it was as good as turned into a "seat of honor."

Listening to the discussion beside him, the black-mole man rolled his eyes, suddenly poured a cup of fine wine, and then carried it toward the corner.

"Ah, Senior... I'm..."

He respectfully held out the wine cup, but before he could finish, Chen Zhong rose to bar him and reminded him in a low voice, "Don't get too close."

Senior Shen was gravely wounded; caution that ought to be kept, had to be kept.

"Oh, oh! I know the rules!"

The black-mole man gave an awkward laugh and hurriedly stepped back two paces, raising the cup in a toast, then draining it in one go.

"This junior is Ma Guangshan. I'm no good at crossing hands with people; I just like to collect…