At this moment, Meng Zhao was not resting. He was regulating his breath, sometimes like a dragon, sometimes like a python, sometimes like a turtle, sometimes like a whale.
Then his breathing became soft and soundless, like a silent, motionless silkworm cocoon, gathering strength as it waited for the moment of metamorphosis.
It looked immensely profound and intricate.
As he breathed in and out, he set the air currents swirling.
The entire tent seemed to have become some enormous beast, breathing—now expanding, now contracting—in a rather wondrous sight.
As Si Peng approached and witnessed this scene, the slight contempt in his heart instantly vanished without a trace. He secretly mused,
This Dan Chi Clan envoy is truly no ordinary man. He actually understands such an unfathomably profound method of qi cultivation, utterly different from the martial arts of the Dan Chi lineage. Just what is his background?
The commotion was not great, but Si Peng caught a peculiar Martial Charm within it. He only felt that it was far from commonplace, and his regard for Meng Zhao deepened by several degrees.
Curious, but swift in action, he lightly knocked on the tent curtain, making a sound.
When the breathing within came to a halt and the great disturbance subsided,
he did not wait for an invitation. He directly lifted the curtain and stepped inside.
The brilliant flame of a lantern illuminated the tent's rather cramped interior.
At times, the firelight swayed, twisting the shadows along with it, but the person seated on the soft couch could still be seen clearly.
He was astonishingly young, and his bearing and appearance were both of the finest sort—a truly outstanding figure.
Yet Fire Envoy Si Peng was not surprised. He had already learned all this from his scouts and had come prepared.
"Honored