"Miss..."
Seeing the female cultivator's brows and eyes grow ever colder, Meng Zhi hurriedly changed his address, cupped his hands, and bowed. "Fellow Daoist."
He knew he could not evade this debt.
The movement of spiritual energy was obvious at a glance. Even with an array concealing it, it could not fool a Nascent Soul True Lord, especially since she had not come looking the day before.
She had most likely traced where the spiritual energy had gone.
Now that she knew he had swept away all the spiritual energy, she had come storming to his door in fury.
Seeing that Meng Zhi was still courteous, the female cultivator's attitude visibly eased.
Only then did Meng Zhi shift his gaze toward her.
He had charged out in a rage just now and overlooked the cultivator before him's appearance.
Now that he looked again.
The female cultivator had an oval face as fair as jade, eyes like moons, and a lofty nose like fine jade, rising straight and upright like mountain ranges and river peaks.
Her pale purple lips were not the product of gaudy makeup. Instead, they lent her an air of mystery. Her slight frown made her willow-leaf brows resemble flashing blades and clashing swords, sending out an invisible aura that shrouded her face.
Where had Meng Zhi ever seen a cultivator like this?
Then he looked at what she wore.
She wore an elaborate brocade golden robe, accented with muted green and purple, making her appear exceedingly noble.
One glance was enough to tell that it was superb material and a custom-made dharma robe, for there was not the slightest hint of an ill-fitting awkwardness.
The instant Meng Zhi saw the woman, he knew he had kicked an iron plate. Even if he could defeat her, he would