Sect Leader Chen stood with his sword raised, cautiously facing Zhou You.
Though they had only exchanged a single blow just now, he could still sense that his opponent's swordsmanship was astonishingly formidable—and for some reason, vaguely familiar... In any case, he was definitely not an opponent to be taken lightly.
He had already begun preparing to call people over and gang up on him—after all, Mount Mao's tradition was that if they could fight together, they would never duel one-on-one. But just then...
"Little Chen, leave this to me."
Sect Leader Chen's stern expression froze for an instant, and then his waist visibly bent.
"Uncle Zhao, why did you trouble yourself to come out?"
...Honestly, if someone put a tail on this sect leader right now, Zhou You felt it would wag faster than a propeller.
This was so bizarre. Could this be his father-in-law?
Zhou You glanced sideways, only to see a wrinkled old man.
If Sect Leader Chen looked like an old farmer, then this man was an aged farmer with one foot already in the grave—the passage of time had carved marks into his face as though with knives and axes. At first glance, his back seemed somewhat hunched. Though not bent into a full stoop, his spine had clearly been bowed by years upon years of labor.
The old man first glanced at Sect Leader Chen, then spoke to Zhou You.
"Fellow Daoist Zhou?"
"Uh, that's me..."
The moment the words left his mouth, Zhou You realized something was wrong.
I don't think I ever introduced myself. How did this guy know my surname?
*Could Sect Leader He have left behind some kind of image recording... But that wasn't right either. Even if reality had truly changed because of the script, Sect Leader He had