In the center of Yi Lin, beneath the old locust tree.
Dong Chen couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation in his heart.
He had been observing the Yi Lin Hermit all along.
From the moment Shao Qian Nong closed his eyes for divination, Dong Chen's gaze never left that withered face.
Shao Qian Nong opened his eyes, and especially that sigh, felt like a basin of icy water poured over Dong Chen's heart.
Dong Chen suddenly felt an ominous foreboding. He hurriedly asked, "Senior, how went the divination?"
Shao Qian Nong paused, then spoke, his voice calm, revealing no happiness or anger: "Just a hair's breadth away, and all was lost."
Dong Chen's heart sank further, his voice hoarse, eyes showing a hint of urgency: "Even with your intervention, Senior, it's still not possible?"
"I beg you, Senior, please use your divine skills again."
The Yi Lin Hermit slowly shook his head, looking up at the old locust tree, at the leaves gently swaying in the night breeze.
