"Oh? You recognize me?"
The Green-Robed Elder turned his head, a strange gleam faintly flickering in his eyes as he looked at the man and spoke in an even tone.
"My master is Venerable Luyu. Three thousand years ago, at Yaochi Immortal Palace, this junior attended at my master's side. By a fortunate coincidence, I once had the honor of seeing senior once."
A black-faced man answered with the utmost respect.
"So you're that poor pedant Luyu's disciple. Mm, now that you mention it, this old man does have some impression of you. Compared to three thousand years ago, your cultivation has advanced a little. Pity that sour Confucian Luyu has already perished beneath Heavenly Tribulation." Venerable Qingyan stroked his beard, his voice still sounding lazy.
"Senior speaks truly. My master has indeed passed away in meditation."
The black-faced cultivator spoke in fear and trembling. Originally, he had still wanted to pull up a tiger skin to make a great banner, fantasizing that by relying on his master's prestigious name as a deterrent, the other party might not necessarily make things difficult for him.
Who would have thought the other party's information was actually so well informed? His honored master had fallen over a thousand years ago, and clearly only a few trusted disciples had known. They had agreed to keep it secret and never leaked it. Just where had the other party heard it from?
However, since the other party understood it so clearly, he naturally did not dare flatly deny anything.
To deceive an old monster of the Tribulation Transcendence Stage to his face—the consequences were not something he could bear.
And while the two of them were speaking back and forth, the other cultivators were also whispering among themselves. Venerable Qingyan lived in seclusion and rarely appeared,