That voice rose from in the dark, and it wasn't even trying to hide.
By the time Yun Mantang finished speaking, the one who'd spoken had already stepped into the circle of firelight.
It was an Old Man.
His hair was sparse, and so was his beard.
His face was full of wrinkles, old and decrepit.
Yet he偏偏 wore a set of emerald-green clothes, with a walking stick in his hand.
He put on the posture of an old dodderer, yet moved like a dragon and strode like a tiger; in a few steps he was already in front of them.
He glanced at Yun Mantang, stroked his beard and smiled:
"Didn't expect it, did you?"
"I really didn't expect it!"
Yun Mantang's expression was ugly.
"Where is the thing?"
The Old Man asked again.
"The thing is here."
Yun Mantang said coldly.
"Hand it over."
"Kill me, and the thing will naturally be yours."
Yun Mantang stood up. "But if you want to kill me, you'll have to catch me first. If you can't catch me, then you can forget about ever getting this thing."
