Within the secret realm, atop the grasslands.
Zhang Han stood with his hands clasped behind his back, silently standing there.
He was dressed in a Confucian robe, embroidered with green mountains and rivers, which, paired with his scholarly aura, made him resemble a Confucian immortal.
Opposite Zhang Han stood another person.
This was a man dressed in a black robe, carrying on his back a great sword as large as a door.
The man's features were ordinary, and so was his presence, the sort that would be lost in a crowd.
But there was a hint of sharpness in his brows.
This person was Zhang Han's first-round opponent, from Ancient Moon Holy Land, Zhang Daohong.
At this moment, there was still a stick of incense's worth of time before the official start.
So the two of them just stood there.
Zhang Han was very calm, Zhang Daohong even more so.
This made Zhang Han somewhat puzzled and perplexed.
After all, he was a disciple of the East State Hidden Sect.
