"Fellow Daoist!"
"Fellow Daoist up ahead, please wait!"
Calls came from beside him.
Mo Chen slowed his Escape Light, turned, and saw a rather oddly dressed cultivator catching up.
The man looked young, perhaps only twenty-five or twenty-six, but his clothes were terribly old-fashioned.
No, old-fashioned hardly covered it. He looked as though he had walked straight out of a mortal academy.
He wore a perfectly squared scholar's headcloth, and the front of his robe was fastened with meticulous neatness. He was clearly a cultivator, yet his enchanted robe looked as though he had worn it for years; even its edges had curled.
As for his features, most of them were fine.
But fellow Daoist, what was with those Crow’s Feet at the corners of your eyes?
Were you a cultivator or a mortal schoolteacher?
Still, Mo Chen suppressed his many questions and smiled at the man.
"Since you deliberately approached me, fellow Daoist, please speak plainly about your business. I must hurry to the wedding banquet at the Li Residence and cannot afford to be late."
Mo Chen then feigned displeasure.
Instead, the man brightened at his words. "Oh? Are you also going to the wedding at the Li Residence?"
"Yes. What of it? If you have something to fart out, get on with it!"
"Since you are attending Great-Uncle Suling's wedding, and you are older than me, I imagine you must also be a senior of our Li Household."
His expression grew even warmer, and he hurriedly cupped his hands. "Forgive my discourtesy! I am Li Yun, a disciple from an in-law branch of the Li Household. My elders ordered me to attend the banquet. To think I would encounter a senior of the Li Household along the way—what a coincidence!"
"So you are Fellow Daoist Li Yun