Bai Xinghan could not help but shout in alarm. Even Lightning Arrow was so frightened that it staggered back again and again, cold sweat pouring down its body.
Old Beggar's face looked somewhat haggard. He wore a patchy cloth robe stained with grease and hardships, while his hair, like a bundle of withered yellow grass, hung in a messy tangle over his forehead.
His beard grew wildly across his chin, looking like a clump of untrimmed weeds. He was utterly unkempt.
Despite his dispirited appearance, Old Beggar's eyes revealed a profound wisdom.
The accumulation of years had not worn away the sharpness in his eyes. Instead, it made the resilience amid that weatheredness stand out all the more. He might have looked idle and carefree, but his eyes held the vicissitudes of one who had seen through all worldly affairs.
No one knew Old Beggar's origins. Even his disciple, Bai Xinghan, did not know, much less what level of the Immortal Dao Realm his master had reached.
The sect had no name. It was called the Nameless Sect.
In the Desolate Heaven Domain, where the strong devoured the weak, having a sect's name was not necessarily a good thing. Besides, this Nameless Sect only had them... If Bai Xinghan had not come, it truly would have been a single inherited line.
In any case, Old Beggar always looked as though he did not have long to live, often making Bai Xinghan and Foolish Eagle weep bitterly toward the sky and congratulate their master on his immortal demise.
Yet afterward, Old Beggar would always appear before them brimming with life, saying that he should be able to live a few more years, having just happened to break through a major realm...
Without a care, he wiped the grease from his hands