Inside the mourning hall, splinters from the shattered coffin danced through the air. An elderly figure stood atop the memorial altar, coldly gazing down at the crowd. His aura radiated effortlessly, projecting an intimidating presence without a hint of anger.
Upon seeing this figure, everyone in the mourning hall cried out in shock, their faces etched with utter disbelief!
"Old... Old Village Chief!"
Chao Fei, however, looked as if he had just seen a ghost. His body, which had been charging toward Shen Haoran, froze abruptly. Staring at Yang Zhentian, his face twisted in terror as he stammered, "N-No... impossible! How is this possible!" 'He had personally checked Yang Zhentian for any signs of life. Yang Zhentian was definitely dead! Why was he now standing right in front of him, alive and well?'
"Surprised, are you?" Yang Zhentian said coldly. "This is all thanks to Nephew Shen. Otherwise, this old life of mine really would have ended at your hands!"
