The next day.
After fermenting for an entire night, the matter of Chen Yang being scorned by the Empress was already known to everyone. Hundreds of thousands of people left Liuhé City, surging toward Wulai Mountain.
Moreover, this number was still climbing at a terrifying speed.
Ever since that last earth-shaking battle, they had been suffocated for far, far too long, and now the time to finally vent was about to arrive.
That kind of mood was truly so excited it was beyond words.
At the same time.
Inside Liuhé City, in a certain restaurant that was usually packed but today held only a few scattered guests, an elderly man of great age sat quietly in a corner, drinking.
He was extremely tall; his thick arms were thicker than most people's thighs. His facial features were sharp and angular, and a tuft of goatee was like steel needles, making him look incomparably rough and wild.
