"What?" Elder Zhamu's heart trembled.
Mo Hua had no choice but to repeat himself:
"Write down the names, origins, locations, and methods of worship for every 'Barbarian God' you know of nearby..."
"Not a single one can be left out."
Elder Zhamu had no idea what this "senior" before him intended to do.
Yet he felt that a dangerous light flickered across that lovely face and within those crystalline eyes.
It made Elder Zhamu feel as though he might be "committing a crime."
The horrific image of the Wutu God being torn apart alive and devoured surfaced in his mind once more.
Elder Zhamu's voice trembled slightly.
"This... I'm afraid that would not be appropriate..."
Mo Hua said, "Write down the names and locations of the Barbarian Gods, and I'll ensure your little grandson remains safe and healthy."
Elder Zhamu shuddered all over at those words.
Mo Hua added, "The Barbarian Gods cannot protect your grandson. I can."
Elder Zhamu fell silent for a moment. Then he silently grabbed some paper and, without another word, wrote down every name of the tribal Barbarian Gods he knew for Mo Hua.
Mo Hua took the paper, glanced over it, and his eyes lit up with satisfaction.
Seeing this, Elder Zhamu suddenly felt regret rise in his heart for some reason—deep regret. Yet he did not dare go back on his word, so he carefully asked Mo Hua:
"Senior, what... are you planning to do?"
Mo Hua folded the paper and tucked it into his robes. "That is none of your concern. Just pretend none of this ever happened."
"Yes..." Elder Zhamu looked somewhat bitter. He glanced at Mo Hua again and asked softly:
"By the way, how should I address you, Senior?"
"I..."
Mo Hua had intended to give his name, but