Wu Manyue and Ren Guhong walked over.
Both were equally stunned.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, isn't this too much of a joke?"
"This little mound over here is even smaller than the grave hill of the old dog back home."
Wu Manyue's eyes widened.
If it weren't for the wooden plaque clearly stating "Xiao Feng's Tomb."
She wouldn't have believed, no matter what, that this was the Great Sage Tomb.
Ren Guhong drew in a sharp breath: "No wonder the ancestor of the Spirit Beast Sect didn't take any burial artifacts."
"Turns out, there's not even a single hair here."
"There's nothing to take, even if you wanted to."
Jiang Fan's mouth twitched slightly.
"I really want to know what the folks of the Divine Movement Sect are thinking right now."
Three generations of searching, ten years of patience.
A gamble that staked the sect's destiny.
And this is the result.
They looked up.
Sure enough, they saw ten figures clad in black robes, standing silently in front of the little mound.
