The crowd in the square was dead silent, with expressions of inhuman stupor on their faces.
Although the thousands of "citizens" still maintained a kneeling posture,
their heads had all twisted precisely 180 degrees, staring eerily at Lu Xuan.
The purple-golden monks' bowls in the young monks' hands clattered to the ground, spilling not porridge, but countless chunks of flesh and shattered bones.
"Hmph!"
"Old bald monk!"
"Pretending to be a deity in front of me!"
Lu Xuan flicked his wrist, a faint black-gold flame flickering in his eyes.
As for why he slapped this old bald monk, it was naturally to vent the anger in his heart.
These ghoulish beings, it must be said, had indeed found Lu Xuan's deepest vulnerability.
That was his family!
Lu Xuan had only given him one slap, and even that was a result of holding back.
He wanted to see what tricks this old bald monk and these things that seemed "human" were up to.
