[Two hours later.]

Bu Haoyan was thrown out of the gates of Zhaomo Pass, battered and barely clinging to life.

When Ye Yu saw him, his expression was complicated.

Bu Haoyan’s once angular, chiseled face had been pummeled into the shape of a pig’s head. Half of one of his demon horns had been snapped off, and his once-pristine robes were torn to shreds—worse than a beggar’s rags.

Ye Yu grasped Bu Haoyan’s hand firmly, saying with utmost sincerity, “Sect Master, you’ve suffered greatly. The sect will never forget your contribution!”

Bu Haoyan grinned weakly.

This time, he had truly …