His gaze swept over those few people, saying nothing. He slung his pack over his shoulder and, amidst the complex gazes of his fellow disciples, strode down the mountain.,Once, when Zhao Fuyun read biographies or historical records, he often lamented that murderous intent often lurked in moments of self-indulgence and enjoyment, more so after drinking parties.,However, today he himself has become the one who hides a knife within the feast of wine.。