Martial Arts Escort System: I Got A Maxed Level Divine Technique From The Beginning-Chapter 343 - 182: Pretending to be a god_2

"The most difficult part of this performance is essentially over," he said.

In the days that followed, just as Su Mo had said, the restless hearts within the Iron Blood Escort Agency gradually stabilized with the cooperation of Zhang Li and several other escort leaders.

After three days of ’grieving for her father’, Yang Xiaoyun rallied and called together the escort leaders, escort masters and squad members from top to bottom, holding a large meeting at the Martial Arts Arena.

The main purpose was to gather people’s hearts and stabilize the overall situation.

By now, the potential instability within the Iron Blood Escort Agency had been thoroughly settled.

There were a few individuals who wanted to leave the Iron Blood Escort Agency to seek better opportunities elsewhere.

Yang Xiaoyun personally tried to persuade them, but to no avail as their minds were set, and in the end, she had no choice but to let them go.

However, there were not many such individuals, and their departure was, in fact, a good thing.

For the remaining days, both the Iron Blood Escort Agency and the Ziyang Escort Agency halted their businesses, waiting for Wu Daoyou to return with the ’corpse’ of Yang Yizhi.

During this process, Su Mo wrote two letters.

One was to Wei Ziyi, and the other was sent to the Ziyang Sect.

There is no need to elaborate on the one to Wei Ziyi; the important one was the letter to the Ziyang Sect.

Su Mo wanted to visit the Ziyang Sect and could not do so without a proper reason.

The connection between the Ziyang Escort Agency and the Ziyang Sect had been severed for many years. Su Mo, seeking to revisit the Ziyang Sect, also needed an appropriate pretext.

Going to Dongcheng for escort duty and visiting along the way was an excuse, yet doing so would seem insincere.

Sending a letter in advance to express her intentions, she only needed to await the reply from the Ziyang Sect before setting out officially.

With that, all the necessary preparations had been essentially completed.

After waiting a few more days, Wu Daoyou finally returned to Luoxia City.

However, what neither Su Mo nor Yang Xiaoyun expected was that there would be an uninvited guest accompanying him...

...

...

On this day, the Iron Blood Escort Agency set up a mourning hall and hung funeral banners.

Su Mo and Yang Xiaoyun, in sackcloth and filial attire, knelt before the mourning hall.

Notable figures in Luoxia City, as well as businesses that had cooperated with the Iron Blood Escort Agency, all came to pay their respects.

Offering condolences with "Be restrained in grief and accept misfortune" and lamenting "The impermanence of Jianghu."

Afterwards, Su Mo took charge and offered red eggs to the visitors, hosting a banquet in appreciation.

These trivial and miscellaneous matters truly took quite a toll.

Although Yang Xiaoyun knew that the body lying in the coffin was not Yang Yizhi, she was influenced by the atmosphere and felt somewhat somber.

Only occasionally, she would look up at the white-clothed young master outside the mourning hall, who was there as a spectator, with a somewhat peculiar expression.

This person was Little Situ from Xuanhu Pavilion.

Yet it was unknown why he had also come to Luoxia City on this occasion.

Because of Yang Yizhi’s previous descriptions of Xuanhu Pavilion, both Su Mo and Yang Xiaoyun were somewhat curious and expectant of it.

However... Little Situ gave the impression of someone who had never seen the world before.

Raised in a family of wealth and comfort, life had been too good for him. After suddenly entering Jianghu, he found everything he saw to be curious.

At this moment, he was sitting on something that could either be a soft sedan chair or just a chair, curiously observing the people coming to mourn.

He was holding a red egg, of which only the shell remained.

Knowing it was not proper to carelessly throw it away, he turned it over in his palm inconspicuously.

None of the mourners bothered to inquire who this person was.

After the mourning was done, and the visitors had left, only the venerable monks summoned by Wu Daoyou from the Golden Dharma Temple remained, still reciting scriptures to redeem the soul in the mourning hall.

As the daughter, Yang Xiaoyun naturally could not leave and stayed to keep them company.

As for Little Situ, after watching the bustle, he carried a basin with large steamed buns in it.

Carrying the basin and eating the buns, he was sent by Su Mo to rest in the side room.

The four maidens accompanying Little Situ were still aloof. Although they carried the sedan chair for Little Situ, they seemed to be in charge of him as well.

It was hard to determine the exact nature of their relationship.

From this day forth, Su Mo and Yang Xiaoyun barely had any rest.

Day and night, they kept vigil beside the coffin, and after seven days of a vegetarian diet, the coffin was to be buried and finally laid to rest.

One night, Su Mo ’finally managed to’ persuade Yang Xiaoyun to go back and rest.

In the mourning hall, only the monks from the Golden Dharma Temple remained, still chanting the scriptures.

Suddenly, a cold wind blew from nowhere, rustling the white candles in the mourning hall.

The older monk, used to such sights, continued to chant the scriptures with his eyes half open and half closed.

The younger ones could not help but feel superstitious and looked around involuntarily.

The old monk did not need to look back; hearing the interrupted chanting behind him, he knew there was trouble and immediately recited the name of Buddha:

"Amitabha!"

Just as he intended to suppress the unrest in hearts, he felt the cold wind intensify.

The funeral banners waved in the wind, and after withstanding it to the extreme, the candles suddenly extinguished, leaving only a few wisps of smoke, which dissipated with the wind.

Even the old monk could not suppress the alarm in his heart and suddenly opened his eyes.

Then there came a thunderous noise.

The younger monks stood up instinctively:

"Mas...Master?"

As they spoke, they involuntarily gathered together.

The old monk stood up, beads in hand, his gaze sweeping in all directions.