Luo Qian casually stuffed all the remaining materials into the thirty-one containers, then left with Zhao Xihe and the other two. A blue bolt of lightning half a meter across suddenly struck from above. Boom! It blasted a pit more than a meter deep right in front of him!
Luo Qian was startled. One step faster, and he would have been reborn in a flash of white light before everyone's eyes. He looked up. A golden carriage adorned with four cloudlike wings floated silently in the sky, drawn by eight steeds, each with a different bearing. Qian Tianbo stood aboard it, his face dark. A wooden post rose from the front of the carriage, with a Bronze Gong bearing a Thunderbolt emblem hung at its tip. Qian Tianbo held the gong mallet.
"Luo Qian! That was just my way of saying hello. Well, First-Rank Immortal, did I scare you?" Qian Tianbo said coldly. Luo Qian frowned at him. "What do you want this time?" "Hmph!" Qian Tianbo snorted. "I heard an arrogant fool like you had entered the Heavenly Lake Contest. Perfect. Let's settle things there. Do you dare?" "I'm only entering the race," Luo Qian said. "Where's the fun in that? A real man belongs on the battlefield. The true contest is in the Martial Demonstration, not the race. I'll be waiting for you there—unless that little greeting frightened you so badly you don't dare accept. That's fine too. I'll just tell everyone I meet that you, Luo Qian, are a mouse-hearted coward who clings to life and fears death. Hyah!" He wheeled his team around. The Eight Steeds let out a string of furious cries that shook the clouds and sped away, vanishing into them in the blink of an eye.
Zhao Xihe shook his head and sighed.