It was a man in azure robes. His long hair was woven into a braid, and his features were beautifully handsome yet somewhat unearthly. He was as upright as a pine tree, and had a black saber scabbard on his back.0

But the scabbard was empty.0

When Su Yi arrived, the beautifully handsome man in azure stood just ten feet from Wu Lingchong. The strange part was that Wu Lingchong obviously hadn’t noticed that he was there.0

“How’s the situation, Daoist Brother?” asked Wu Lingchong. 0

“Stand there and don’t move,” said Su Yi. He looked at the man in azure. “Are you a god?”0

Wu Lingchong froze, stunned, then whipped his head around to look, but he saw nothing at all. In other words, neither his eyes nor his divine sense could detect whatever or whoever it wad.1

His heart quivered, and his hair stood on end.0

The man in azure said nothing. His long, thin eyes shone with the vicissitudes of countless years as he looked Su Yi up and down, seemingly intent on uncovering all of his secrets.0

After a while, he sighed with obvious disappointment. “You aren’t Li Fuyou.”0

His voice was like the edge of a saber scraping against a rock: low, cold, and austere, with a hint of imposing for...0