The light of the setting sun illuminated the scattered vegetation.0

As the crows beat their wings and flew away, a cultivator arrived, a bony old man with a sparse head of hair. 0

He was dressed in long, bright red robes, with an angled sword scar cutting across his nose and forehead. It almost looked like a centipede lying on his face, and it made him extraordinarily hideous.1

As soon as the old man arrived, he fixed his icy gaze on the distant Su Yi and asked in a raspy voice, “Temple Master, do you remember me?”0

Su Yi turned to face him, then gazed intently at him briefly before furrowing his brow. “Who are you?”0

“You don’t recall?” the old man asked with a self-deprecating laugh. “But then, that makes sense. They say great men have short memories. Furthermore, at the battle of Divine Ocean Pass, I couldn’t block even a single one of your strikes.”0

“Oh,” said Su Yi.0

The old man in red couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you remember me now?”0

Bone-deep hatred appeared on his face.0

“I don’t,” said Su Yi with a shake of his head.5

“....”0

A moment later, he pointed at the scar on his face with shame and indignation. “You gave me this scar!...0