Xu Zimo's appearance had indeed given the Daoist quite a fright.
Although the Daoist had been lost in thought just now, there was nothing wrong with his perception.
If anyone approached him, he could detect it in an instant.
Yet Xu Zimo had come like a ghost, unseen and unheard. Had Xu Zimo not spoken, he would not have noticed a thing.
The Daoist looked at Xu Zimo, his gaze filled with wariness.
Anyone who could approach him without a sound was certainly no ordinary person.
Yet Xu Zimo's face was unfamiliar; he seemed never to have seen him before.
The Daoist's occupational habit seemed to have flared up. He began flicking his abacus, calculating Xu Zimo's origins.
It would have been fine if he had not calculated.
The moment the abacus began to move, before long, there came a boom.
A heavenly thunderbolt descended from above, striking the Daoist directly.
The Daoist's eyes widened in horror. He hurriedly raised the abacus over his head.
His lips moved in an endless murmur, as though reciting some scripture. At once, the abacus shone brilliantly, enveloping his entire body.
Though there was only a single bolt of lightning,
its power was not to be underestimated.
With one strike, it blasted countless cracks into the abacus.
The Daoist staggered and spat out a mouthful of blood. Only then did the thunder in the sky gradually dissipate.
"Divine punishment—great misfortune, great misfortune!
Touch it, and death is certain!"
The Daoist muttered to himself. Looking at Xu Zimo, it was as if he had seen the God of Plague.
He kept backing away.
"We do not know each other. It would be best to keep our distance."
Xu Zimo found it rather amusing. This Daoist seemed terrified of him, and perhaps he truly had divined