The young Daoist...
Or rather, the White Immortal watched Chen Yi enter the Jishi Pharmacy, a flicker of interest appearing on his handsome face.
"Interesting."
He naturally recognized Chen Yi as the somewhat gifted Martial Path prodigy who had appeared in the East Market the previous night.
He also saw through Chen Yi's disguise and concealment.
So, besides their brief encounter last night and his desire to "offer some guidance" to this Martial Path heavenly pride, curiosity had also drawn him over.
He wanted to see what background the young man came from and who had taught him.
He had not expected the young man to refuse his kindness.
"Never mind, never mind."
"Enter the mountains without bowing to immortals, enter a temple without bowing to the Buddha—the loss is yours."
"I... this humble Daoist's affinity with you has run its course."
The White Immortal coughed, carried his cloth banner to the entrance of the East Market, planted it beside him, and flourished his sleeves twice.
He truly looked every inch an immortal, with the bearing of a Daoist sage.
"To know what lies before you and behind you, hear a few words from this humble Daoist."
"I judge life and death, divine fortune and calamity, dispel the thousand obstacles before your eyes, and keep your future safe for ten thousand miles."
"My good... sir, I see your Yintang is full. Might you have some joyous occasion approaching?"
A man dressed in hemp mourning clothes with a white cloth around his head looked over with a miserable expression and cursed:
"Get lost! Can't you see I'm on my way to a funeral?"
"Yes, yes, of course..."
Inside the Jishi Pharmacy, Chen Yi stood by the door, secretly observing the young Daoist in the distance. He could not help finding it