Wukong's smile froze on his face.
Bajie carried the Rake on his shoulder, his eyes round as saucers.
He looked at Little White Dragon, then pointed toward the Tongtian River.
"What?"
"That Old Tortoise?"
"The Dragon Tribe?"
Bajie turned back and gestured with his hands.
"Now hold on, Little White. Don't pull my leg."
"That Old Tortoise is covered in armor, with a thick, heavy, rounded body. His head's round, his shell's round, and it's as big as a pot lid."
"Where's even a trace of a dragon's majesty?"
Wukong couldn't stop laughing.
"Idiot, you just said he had no demonic stench and clear qi swirled around him."
"Now you're complaining he looks like a pot lid?"
Bajie glared at him.
"Clear qi is clear qi. A pot lid is a pot lid."
He paused, then added:
"Could he be from the dragon-tortoise lineage of Bixi, one of the Ancestral Dragon's nine sons?"
"But that doesn't make sense either."
"That lineage is incredibly rare. I've only seen them a few times myself, but they didn't look anything like Old Tortoise!"
The more Bajie spoke, the more convinced he became.
Little White Dragon shook his head.
"Second Senior Brother, this concerns a secret of our Dragon Tribe."
Bajie immediately said, "Here we go again. Your Dragon Tribe sure has a lot of relatives-and a lot of complications!"
Little White Dragon shot him a hostile glare.
Bajie hurriedly apologized. "Sorry, Little White, sorry. My mouth ran ahead of me again."
As he spoke, he lightly slapped his snout twice.
Little White Dragon snorted.
Wukong slung an arm around Bajie. "Idiot, look at you. You didn't hit hard enough!"
Then he smiled at Little White Dragon. "Go on, Little White. Once you're done, I'll help you teach him a lesson!"
Bajie gave an