Xiang Yuntian had An Li bring up three thousand jars of fine wine. Without saying a word, he started drinking with Li An. It seemed as though something weighed heavily on Xiang Yuntian's mind, as though three hundred years of suppression were finally being relieved. He was incredibly happy, drinking jar after jar without pause, letting the alcohol intoxicate him, without using spiritual power to dissolve even a trace of it.
Li An didn't say much either, drinking alongside him!
"Three hundred years, three hundred years of bloody battles... those damn ghost things are truly a pain in the ass!"
With too much drink, and already drunk, many words began to spill out uncontrollably: "One Immortal of the Dao Sect disappeared, probably dead, and two others were severely injured, still not fully recovered, over ten Supreme have died, of the one hundred and eight Peak Masters, only forty-odd have survived... Old Gu, Old Gu is near death too, almost gone!"
