The hall was silent for quite a while,
when a thin, slightly stooped old man draped in a long robe slowly walked out. His face was sallow, his eyes sunken, and he seemed to move with difficulty. White hair draped around his shoulders, he looked for all the world like a dying elder nearing his end.
After a few steps, the old man was suddenly seized by a fit of violent coughing.
Bai Jiu'Er's brows knit ever so slightly as she said, "You really look nothing like the famous Dragon King of the Martial World at all now—more like a man right before death."
Just as Bai Jiu'Er said,
it was hard to imagine anyone would believe that the legendary Nu River Dragon King, Mo Jingzhou, would turn out to be such a frail, sickly old man.
Mo Jingzhou smiled faintly and said, "You, this temper of yours really needs changing. You care, but it sounds like you're cursing me."
