"Who are you? What do you want?"
Alarm and suspicion stirred in Ming Hao's heart. He hurriedly inspected his sea of consciousness again and again, yet found nothing.
In his miniature Divine Sense form, he knitted his brows tightly, his expression darkening. All he could do was lower his voice and ask gravely.
"Do not be nervous, young friend. I mean you no harm!"
A gentle voice sounded beside Ming Hao's ear, as though its speaker were mere inches away.
Ming Hao's heart tightened. He carefully examined his sea of consciousness once more, leaving not a single corner unchecked, yet still failed to locate the source of the voice.
"There is no need to search, young friend. This is merely my Ten-Thousand-Mile Voice Transmission Secret Art. My actual body is not here."
The voice seemed to notice Ming Hao's actions and explained unhurriedly.
Ming Hao sighed inwardly. He had more or less guessed as much. Since the other party could transmit a voice into his sea of consciousness so effortlessly, their cultivation had to be unfathomably profound.
At that thought, he abandoned any notion of finding the voice's source.
"Senior, have you gone to such lengths because you have some instructions for me?"
Ming Hao steadied himself and asked.
"Young friend, I can see that you possess tremendous fortune and unparalleled talent. You will surely become a peerless powerhouse in the future.
How about I lend you a hand and help you grow more quickly?"
The voice spoke slowly, with a hint of temptation.
At those words, the corners of Ming Hao's mouth lifted into a cold smile, and he answered bluntly:
"No thanks. I don't need it!"
The other party seemed not to have expected Ming Hao to refuse so decisively. After a brief silence, the voice continued: