Of course, Xiao Ming's expression remained calm and unruffled, his gaze steady and composed, as if everything he had claimed was the absolute truth.
It was as though it was only Zhao Yin who had hallucinated and was now attempting to incite a grudge out of nothing—a nasty, troublesome young man.
Zhao Yin glared at Xiao Ming for several minutes, his face contorting into an unnatural expression, as if trying to unravel the hidden meaning in the other's demeanor.
Finally, he grunted in frustration, unwilling to engage further, and snorted lightly, turning his attention away.
Meanwhile, Xiao Ming's mind was far from idle. He had managed to glean quite a bit of information from the fog, aided by the dao-dragon aura he had carefully released.
Unlike spiritual consciousness, which had been rendered useless, his dao-dragon aura was unaffected by the dense mist and pierced through it with ease, revealing its hidden secrets.
