The old Confucian scholar was stunned. He struggled with all his might, but found that he couldn’t move at all.0

Li Yanchu pulled a brush from his bosom and directly pressed it against the old scholar’s forehead. The brush seemed almost sentient, as if of its own accord it wrote a large, bold “Seal” character on the old scholar’s forehead.0

Then Li Yanchu stepped forward and took everything out of the old scholar’s bosom.0

The old scholar’s eyes went wide, and he nearly spat up a mouthful of blood. He stared at the young Daoist as if he were staring at a ghost.0

“You really are not a good person!” Li Yanchu’s expression darkened as he saw the glass bottle containing the bizarre eyeball.0

With a wave of his hand, all of the old scholar’s possessions were swept...0