"The one who drove for you." The ordinary-looking man swept a hand over his face, and his aura changed, taking on the air of a refined scholar.
"It's you!" Once again, Song Shuhang connected the man before him to that increasingly blurry figure in his memory.
"So don't worry. You've already done a great deal for the Confucian School. We owe you another favor." The ordinary-looking man reached out and summoned a scroll of the Sage Scripture.
It was a scripture handwritten by the Sage during his lifetime.
Song Shuhang was still a little worried. "The Heavenly Emperor has companions too, and they're probably no weaklings. Will you be all right on your own, Uncle?"
"Don't worry. I have companions too," Designated Driver Uncle said with a smile.
Then another figure stepped out of the crowd.
He was a monk whose entire body seemed cast from adamantine, with absurdly exaggerated muscles. At the sight of him, Song Shuhang had the illusion that every muscle in the world had grown on this monk.
The adamantine monk pressed his palms together and gave Song Shuhang a slight smile.
That smile warmed the heart.
Song Shuhang met his gaze.
Then he sensed an aura of closeness from the adamantine monk. Their cultivation techniques were resonating with and attracting one another.
"Vajra Temple?" Song Shuhang asked instinctively.
The adamantine monk smiled faintly and nodded.
A seven-meter-long strand of hair suddenly sprouted from the top of Song Shuhang's head. It was Pavilion Master Chu's new cowlick.
The strand whipped toward the adamantine monk, its tip sharp as a needle, aimed straight at his eyes.
The adamantine monk remained motionless, his palms pressed together, perfectly calm.
Pavilion Master Chu's cowlick stopped in front of the monk.
A moment later, the long strand slowly withdrew.
"It's not