Han Chen's heart had only just begun to settle when it leapt back into his throat. Under Zhang Shuai's almost tangible gaze, he found it difficult even to breathe.
Forcing himself to remain calm, he clasped his hands toward Zhang Shuai with difficulty and said in a dry voice, "Zhang... Saint Lord Zhang, what... what are your orders?"
Zhang Shuai smiled and said, "Fellow Daoist Han Chen, there is no need to be so nervous. Just now, I had a sudden intuition and made a calculation. I discovered that if you remain in the Burial Heaven Pavilion in the near future, you may suffer a bloody calamity that could endanger both your life and your path. Since we can be considered acquaintances, I cannot bear to see you meet such disaster. Why not leave the Burial Heaven Pavilion from this day onward and join my Dragon Soaring Sect? Follow by my side from now on, and I can ensure your safety. That way, your future path will be far broader. What do you think, Fellow Daoist?"
Han Chen's expression instantly turned incomparably ugly. Yet Zhang Shuai was notorious for his ferocity, and Han Chen did not dare fall out with him openly. He could only stammer, "Saint... Saint Zhang must be joking. Han Chen has long sworn a Great Dao oath to serve the Burial Heaven Pavilion loyally for this lifetime, with no second thoughts. I'm... afraid I cannot comply with Your Holiness's wishes and join the Dragon Soaring Sect. I hope Your Holiness can forgive me."
"Hmm?"
Zhang Shuai's smile vanished in an instant, replaced by icy coldness. With a snort, his voice was not loud, yet it exploded like thunder within the six men's consciousnesses. "Refusing to give me face? You refuse a toast only to drink a