Six days later.
In the rugged mountains, Yu Xiaogang had changed into a black robe and followed behind Luo Sanpao. They had traveled at full speed without rest for days,
but there was no longer any fatigue on his face. He was full of vigor, with no sour stench on him and no grease in his hair.
He had taken a bath.
Tang Hao had not appeared for nearly ten days, and the heart Yu Xiaogang had kept clenched finally relaxed somewhat.
Tang Hao was a Titled Douluo. There was no need for him to toy with Yu Xiaogang. It was unlikely that he had followed him all this way, only to appear when he was closest to hope and plunge him into complete despair.
If Tang Hao wanted to, he would have killed him outright.
Yesterday, they had happened upon a river, so he had gone in and given himself a thorough wash.
He felt refreshed.
Even amid the mountains, his steps were light.
After all, he was a level twenty-nine Soul Grandmaster. With Soul Power protecting his body, his stamina and endurance were far beyond those of ordinary people.
Yu Xiaogang was already over fifty this year, but nourished by Soul Power, his body was truly no worse than that of an ordinary twenty-year-old youth.
Looking at Luo Sanpao's happily bouncing backside ahead of him,
Yu Xiaogang could not help fantasizing. Once he reached Spirit Hall and said a few nice words, would Bibi Dong—no, Dong'er—throw herself back into his arms?
Hehe...
No, she was the Pope now. The Pope had the Pope's dignity. It would definitely have to be in private...
Heh...
What was Tang Hao worth? He did not have Twin Martial Souls, nor was he the Pope of Spirit Hall. That so-called youngest Clear Sky