Wang Chen abruptly spun around.
Two or three dozen paces away stood a gray-robed monk.
He was tall and gaunt, with a lean, weathered face etched with the ravages of time. A battered Buddhist cage hung from his back.
Meeting Wang Chen's gaze, the old monk smiled faintly, pressed his palms together, and offered a salute.
"This humble monk is Wuxiang of Lantuo Temple. Greetings, young friend."
Wang Chen drew a deep breath and returned the salute with an upright palm. "Wang Chen, an inner sect disciple of the Yunyang Sect. Greetings, Master."
The other man looked frail with age, as though a gust of wind could topple him.
Yet this was the wilderness, deep within an Evil Nest, in the dead of night.
For Wang Chen, who harbored great secrets, to remain composed when such a person suddenly appeared was already no easy feat.
The instant he turned around, he empowered his Spirit Eye Technique.
Yet he could not discern Monk Wuxiang's cultivation or strength at all!
A monk? A Dharma Master? A Zen Master?
Wang Chen did not dare think any further.
The Buddhist Sect's cultivation realms bore different names from the Daoist path. Novice monk, monk, Dharma Master, Zen Master, and Vajra corresponded respectively to Mortal Transformation, Qi Refining, Purple Mansion, Golden Core, and Nascent Soul.
He could be absolutely certain that the old monk before him was no ordinary monk.
He was likely more than a Dharma Master!
In any case, crushing Wang Chen would pose no difficulty whatsoever.
Wang Chen could only invoke the Yunyang Sect's name, hoping it would make the other party somewhat wary.
He had originally intended to give himself a false name.
But his instincts told him—
Before this old monk, such a move would be utterly laughable!
The other party