Jiang Qiao stood at the edge of the plaza.
His gaze fell on the figure in a blue-green Daoist robe, his back turned.
Orange light spilled from the surrounding stone pillars, clearly illuminating the outline of the figure a hundred paces away.
A Daoist.
A young Daoist!
Almost instantly, a name surfaced in Jiang Qiao's mind—Dragon Tiger Daoist!
"Fucking hell."
"That wasn't easy."
"I've been looking for so long, running from the south to the north, then all the way to the Icefield in the Far North, and finally chasing him into this enormous tomb beneath Rakshasa Lake. I've finally caught the bastard."
At that moment, Jiang Qiao felt an inexplicable sense of relief.
It felt like beating a game.
Still.
Although he was certain of the answer, he intended to confirm it.
He didn't rush closer.
Instead, he stood where he was and called out:
"Dragon Tiger Daoist?"
His voice immediately spread across the empty plaza, echoing repeatedly off the surrounding stone pillars.
The figure ahead visibly paused.
He seemed a little surprised, then slowly turned around.
And there he was.
A young Daoist in his twenties came into Jiang Qiao's view. He had a lean face and dignified features, with an unmistakable air of valor about his brow.
His eyes were exceptionally bright, like two black gemstones washed clean with water.
But now.
Those eyes were filled with surprise.
He looked Jiang Qiao up and down, obvious confusion and wariness in his gaze:
"Sir... do you know me?"
Just as I thought!
Dragon Tiger Daoist!
There's no mistake!
Jiang Qiao immediately smiled.
Seeing Jiang Qiao smile, Dragon Tiger Daoist grew even warier. "Sir, I don't believe we've met."
"My name is Jiang Qiao."
"I came here specifically to find you."
Jiang Qiao smiled as he spoke.
"Oh?"
Dragon