Yu Yangzi's right hand drew a swastika in front of him, and amidst a flash of golden light from the symbol, it struck the old ghost's robe.
As the swastika hit the old ghost's black robe, he seemed as if he had been electrified, with the golden light coursing through his body and tightening around him like rope becoming ever more constricting.
"Hehehe..."
The old ghost uttered a string of mumbled, indistinct words, frozen in place. Yu Yangzi did not give him a chance to catch his breath, and with the horsetail whisk in his hand, he smashed it down upon the old ghost, instantly reducing him to a pile of broken bones.
Jiang Xiaobai had his life saved when he least expected it by Yu Yangzi of all people. It seemed Yu Yangzi's intention to take him as a disciple was genuine. Gratitude for saving one's life is greater than heaven, and Jiang Xiaobai's opinion of Yu Yangzi had greatly improved.
"Uncle Master, what are you doing!"
