The Great Thief

Zhong Songtang only felt that he could not understand the conversation between Deputy City Lord Jiang and his old friend Wu Zhu.

Though it was shocking and baffling, it seemed as if a veil of mist forever stood between him and the person they described—the powerful cultivator who had undergone tribulation and become a venerable one at the Eight Hundred Li Han River.

It was more like listening to a story.

He marveled at that person's terror.

Wu Zhu's eyes, forged from nested peak crystals, slowly lowered.

As though he were recalling the road he had traveled.

At last, he spoke of their meeting all those years ago.

A small boat drifting through Domain Bastion space.

A bronze lamp.

A corpse.

He and Lu Jing had removed an iron ring and a storage ring.

With his discernment, he had naturally recognized it as a damaged Dao weapon. Zhong Songtang had also seen that Dao weapon before; Zhong Songtang himself had sent it into the weapon-nurturing pool, where it had been nurtured for six years.

It was precisely those six years that allowed him to wait until an old Heavenly Mechanism puppet without a Purple Mansion appeared at the auction house.

"It was that thing!"

Zhong Songtang could not help crying out.

Under Wu Zhu's description, he recalled the matter as well.

An indescribable chill rose in his heart.

Even he had never suspected such lurking concealment.

Although it had been a Dao weapon sent over by an old friend, he had still habitually swept it with his divine sense, yet found not the slightest anomaly.

So at that time, there had been a cultivator of the same realm beside them—no, the other party's cultivation was even more unfathomable, like some ancient monster—watching from the shadows.

Even though he was a