Lu Quanan looked at him, his dark brown, almost black eyes seeming to reflect a century of dust and smoke.
He softly uttered a name.
"Pineclear Daoist."
The name struck Yi Yang's ears like thunder erupting from silence.
Shock surfaced on his face, and his mouth opened involuntarily. He had never expected Lu Quanan to bring up that name.
How should he put it?
It was both unexpected and unsurprising. As far as Yi Yang knew, only that mysterious Daoist who had appeared in Yunlin County three hundred years ago could have done something like this.
Seeing his astonishment, Lu Quanan wore a faint, ambiguous smile and asked:
"Have you been waiting to hear that name from my lips?"
Yi Yang did not deny it. He nodded.
He had indeed been pondering this question for a long time.
It had begun with the incomplete Wood-Nurturing Longevity Art in Yunlin County, then continued with the faceless wooden statue on the fifth floor of the Heaven Patrol Office's Armory in the Prefectural City.
Then there were the Records of the Sunken Abyss from White Dragon Marsh. The name Pineclear Daoist was like a thread, drawing him farther and farther along the path of cultivation.
Every lead broke off, and every lead pointed toward a powerful figure from three hundred years ago, whose present whereabouts had long since become unknown.
He simply had not expected to hear it from Lu Quanan in this manner.
"Sir... you..."
"You should have sensed it already." With his hands behind his back, Lu Quanan said with a sigh, "You and I practice the same cultivation art."
Yi Yang's pupils contracted.
He had indeed harbored suspicions.
There was the volume of cultivation notes on the Wood-Nurturing Longevity Art's True Astral Realm that Lu Quanan had given him, as