Wu Qiaomei and the other Foundation Establishment Demon Cultivators swallowed hard. Standing to the side, they kept their heads bowed, not daring to utter a single word.
They looked at Qin Xuan, who sat on the high seat with a wide smile on his face. They would sooner die than believe this was a coincidence.
'In the end, high cultivation is what matters. He's not the man he once was. To be so thoroughly vindicated in just twenty short years... just thinking about it is exhilarating.'
Wu Qiaomei thought to herself.
However, for Wang Jian and Sunx Yuan, this scene was worse than death.
The pressure radiating from Qin Xuan's Purple Mansion Realm felt like a colossal Demon Mountain, crushing them until they could barely breathe.
Shock, vexation, regret, fear, terror... a torrent of complex emotions surged through them.
