Then came an awkward problem: Song Shuhang was still wearing the Wood Ox Swordsman's Heart Gloves on his left hand. The gloves had been slightly damaged during this Heavenly Tribulation, but they still covered his palm.
So he couldn't make out what Venerable White was writing on his left palm. All he could feel was a tickle.
Song Shuhang: "..."
Writing on his palm was no way to communicate while he had gloves on.
Taking them off would be even worse. The moment he did, his Appraisal Secret Method would go wild, appraising the heavens, the earth, and the very air. Sooner or later, Song Shuhang would be done for.
Did Senior White have another way to communicate? Something more direct?
As he pondered this, the tickling in his palm stopped.
Venerable White must have realized Song Shuhang couldn't understand writing through a glove and given up on the method.
Besides, Senior White knew about Song Shuhang's unusual Appraisal Secret Method, so he hadn't considered removing the Wood Ox Swordsman's Heart Gloves.
Senior White, if you can't write on my palm, you could hold my arm and write there. I should be able to tell what you're trying to say, Song Shuhang thought.
But Senior White seemed to have stopped trying to send him a message. Song Shuhang focused for a long while without sensing anything else.
Has Senior White given up for now? he wondered.
Just then, a numb sensation ran through his left hand—the crackling sting of an electric shock. Had Senior White started his Tribulation Transcendence again?
The shock wasn't strong. It was probably just the aftershock of Senior White's Heavenly Tribulation. His left hand was now in much the same position as Onion Lady had been inside the Inch-Shrinking Bag during his own Tribulation Transcendence, getting