Actually, I shouldn't feel that you, Lord of Thunder God, are bad," Xiaoqing said, looking up at the statue with an angry tone: "If I weren't a temple priest, I might have been eaten long ago. But I still want to ask..."
"Lord of Thunder God, are you just going to watch?"
...
The quiet of Zheng Fa's temple was shattered.
A group of burly men approached the temple.
In the center of the burly men, sixteen people carried a middle-aged man, who was not very burly, but everyone dared not look at him.
Behind them, a large crowd followed.
Swarming, nearly over ten thousand people.
Most of them were extremely gaunt, their cheekbones protruding, but the fanaticism in their eyes when looking at the middle-aged man was even greater than that of the burly men.
The bright light in their eyes burned in their hollow sockets, like will-o'-the-wisps.
Xiaoqing, hearing the commotion outside, walked to the temple gate to face these uninvited guests.
"What are you trying to do?"
