Divine Envoy

On the other side of the spacious, quiet road, someone was slowly approaching.

Tang Luo and the others looked over. It was a dark-skinned old man.

He was hunched and gaunt. A few strands of gray-white hair occasionally fluttered in the breeze atop his bald head, giving him the air of the Fire Cloud Evil God from Kung Fu.

He wore tattered clothes and leaned on a natural cane made from a tree branch.

He also carried a bamboo-woven basket on his back, part of which extended above his head to shield him from the wind and rain.

Now, only two lonely poles remained, utterly useless.

The old man walked forward step by step, slowly leaning on his cane.

He looked like an old farmer who had spent his entire life with his face to the soil and his back to the sky. Yet appearing on this empty, silent street, he seemed strange—even frightening.

As Tang Luo and the others looked at the old man—

The old man's cloudy eyes lifted at the same time and fixed on them. His pace quickened slightly.

When he reached Tang Luo and the others, his gaze lingered a little longer on Tang Luo, the young monk, before he looked at Bajie and asked, "Young man, how did you end up here?"

A chilling smile appeared on his face, which looked only slightly better than a dried corpse's.

Only a few scattered teeth remained in his upper and lower jaws.

"Just passing through, just passing through," Bajie said with a smile. "What about you, sir?"

"Me? I'm just passing through too. I'm heading over there." The old man raised a finger and pointed to the other side of the road.

There stood an enormous palace complex. The "towering building that rose a hundred feet"