Han Zongwang shuddered from head to toe!
His eyes widened as he stared in disbelief at the slowly fading phantom.
"The Heavenly Phoenix bloodline?"
He murmured the words very softly, as though afraid of disturbing something.
But the next instant, he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
His laughter rang like a great bell, echoing and crashing through the secret chamber, making the candle flames sway wildly.
"Ha ha ha, ha ha ha!"
There were the scars of time in that laughter, sorrow, release, and an indescribable pride.
Only toward the end did his voice gradually fade, almost choking with emotion.
"Misfortune leans upon fortune... fortune lies hidden within misfortune..."
He murmured to himself, a crystalline gleam rising in his clouded old eyes. "The ancients spoke truly... truly indeed!"
He drew a deep breath and gazed at the pale yet peaceful face within the scroll. His voice was hoarse, but filled with boundless affection. "Chan'er, oh, Chan'er. Live when it is time to live, die when it is time to die... my dear granddaughter, remarkable... truly remarkable!"
This Great Grandmaster had already attained unity of heaven and man, with nothing in the world troubling his heart. Yet now, it took him several full breaths to calm his surging emotions.
He slowly leaned back against his chair and returned his gaze to the scroll.
Within the scroll, shimmering light flowed. Just as Han Zhan raised his enormous Mystic Ice blade to cleave He An, a towering figure fell like a meteor from the heavens and crashed down...
Even the scroll trembled with it.
Han Zongwang's gaze abruptly sharpened like a blade.
He stared at the imposing seven-foot figure, with his broad jaw and tigerlike whiskers, at those round eyes that looked down upon the world. Watching him rout Tong