Meng Zhao's thoughts were not without reason.
Dragon Tree Monk had come to the Arctic Ice Plains absolutely not to preach some so-called doctrine, spread Buddhist teachings, or recruit believers. His purpose was far more likely to be for himself.
Moreover, Dragon Tree Monk could not have been targeting him from the very beginning. After all, this man had arrived in the Arctic Ice Plains decades ago, and Meng Zhao had not even been born then. Thus, if Dragon Tree Monk truly had ties with the Beitang Imperial Clan of Divine Land, it could only have happened recently.
Meng Zhao considered staying at Little Cold Mountain Temple a while longer and obtaining the complete Peacock King Sutra as soon as possible. Otherwise, the longer he remained in the Arctic Ice Plains, the more unstable his foundations in Lingwu City, within Divine Land Passes, would become. The losses would outweigh the gains.
A week passed like this, yet Meng Zhao's gains remained rather limited. At the very least, Dragon Tree Monk had been extremely conservative when teaching him the Peacock King Sutra.
That day, Meng Zhao and the young man of the Heavenly Wolf Tribe met once more in Dragon Tree Monk's meditation chamber.
Though he had practiced the Peacock King Sutra for only a short time, this divine art was indeed extraordinary. Even though the young man of the Heavenly Wolf Tribe had learned merely the outermost scraps of it, he had already nurtured an air of kingship. He looked like a proud peacock; every gesture, every word and action, was vastly different from what Meng Zhao had seen days ago.
The young man of the Heavenly Wolf Tribe might not have noticed it himself, but Meng Zhao saw it with perfect clarity.
Without anyone noticing, Dragon Tree Monk had