In a farmhouse in a small mountain village, two groups of people were facing each other. Both sides were prepared for a fight, with roughly equal numbers. The atmosphere was tense... an ominous silence filled with the smell of gunpowder.,After a while, Zi collected the things in his hand and slightly raised his head. His eyes, devoid of sorrow or joy, swept over the black people in the courtyard. They all held their breath. As professional assassins, they sensed danger in an instant and instinctively took defensive postures. Suddenly, a light chuckle broke the tense atmosphere.,Just then, footsteps outside the door slowly approached, accompanied by low murmurs. Zhou Yi could tell that they were just two ordinary people, with no trace of cultivation. He guessed that the person he was waiting for had arrived; they were indeed punctual.。