"Old Yue."
Suddenly, a figure cloaked in a black cape and wearing a pure black mask appeared five meters away on the narrow path, almost as if flickering into existence.
The path happened to be in the direction Yue Dewen was returning to the Great Capital, and he was blocked by the newcomer's sudden appearance.
"You should know why we are here." Even with a cloak, the newcomer couldn't hide the solemn Daoist cadence in their voice.
Within religious circles, Daoists and monks, over time, develop a mysterious and unique aura.
This aura, as soon as they speak, with every gesture, reveals them.
But this person didn't seem to mind whether or not they were exposed.
"Other than you, Zhenyunzi of Zhenyi, who else has such a distinctive voice? And are you alone? What? You think I'm nothing now because I'm old, just like a big fat pig in its pen, waiting for you to cut meat?" Yue Dewen carelessly flicked the dirt from his nose.
"Who else is there? Come out already."
