Netherworld Fortress and the Garrison Commander

Not long after, Zhao Sheng and the other arrived at the top floor of the grotto-heaven tower. Before their eyes lay a mortal paradise of drifting clouds and jade-green waters, verdant forests and fragrant grass, birdsong and blooming flowers.

Deep within a lush bamboo grove, two bearded old men in crimson robes sat cross-legged on the ground, staring down at the chessboard before them. The black and white pieces upon it were tangled in a complex pattern; they were clearly in the midst of a game.

Zhao Sheng's expression froze. Whether in demeanor, aura, appearance, or bearing, the two bearded old men were exactly alike. At first glance, they looked like a pair of twins.

As if sensing someone's arrival, both bearded old men raised their heads and looked over at the pair.

Huang Hongxiang did not dare show the slightest negligence. He hurried forward, cupped his hands in salute, and respectfully said, "Disciple-grandson Huang Hongxiang pays respects to Ancestor Bi Fang!"

When Ancestor Bi Fang saw his appearance, his expression also stiffened.

At the same time, Zhao Sheng stepped forward and likewise saluted. "Junior Zhao Xi pays respects to the two Ancestors!"

Seeing the two greet them, the bearded old man on the left suddenly reached out and scattered the chess pieces across the board. He shouted vaguely, "Someone's here. This game is over, over! Proper business comes first!"

"You old rascal, you can never accept a loss! If I ever play chess with you again, even if I lose, I'll count it as a win!" The bearded old man on the right immediately flew into a rage, pointing at the other's nose as he cursed furiously.

"Hmph, who can't accept a loss? We shoulder the sect's great responsibility; we cannot let down our guard for even a moment.