At the abrupt sound of that familiar voice, Zhou Ji's flesh trembled involuntarily.
He swallowed and turned his neck with utmost care.
A few steps away stood a round, plump woodcutter with his hands clasped behind his back, his face kindly and genial. Who knew where he had come from? A few drops of fresh dew still clung to his straw rain cape.
After a moment of astonishment, Zhou Ji blinked, then hurled himself forward on all fours, wailing:
"I missed you to death, Master! It's been so long since I beheld your august countenance. How has your noble person grown so thin? Whatever could be the reason? Without your humble-"
Tong Xuan waved a hand in disgust, cutting Zhou Ji off, then kicked him away.
The old yellow dog rolled head over heels several times before scrambling up.
Though he wanted to give eight generations of Tong Xuan's ancestors a thorough greeting, he dared not dwell on the thought at all. He could only put on a smiling face and sidle up again, wagging his tail.
"You wretched beast! I let you out once, and who knows how much trouble you've stirred up for me!
"I should have done it long ago-slaughtered you for meat back then!"
Before Zhou Ji could say anything more, Tong Xuan seized him by the scalp and berated him:
"How loyal you are! You actually joined forces with that baldy to injure several True Lords of the Blood River Sect and abduct that Blood River Sect disciple by force. If that old bastard Hun Zhe comes demanding an accounting, how am I supposed to answer him? Slaughter you with one stroke and invite him to share the soup?"
Zhou Ji bared his teeth in a fawning grin.
"What does a mere Blood River Sect