Just after Donghai Lin fixed Ma Wuhan's construed left hand to its normal position amidst the scream of pain, a soft and deep voice spoke from above the sky.
"Could you please forgive Ma Wuhan for his shameful shenanigans this time around, Young Master Lin Donghai? As a gratitude for saving my face for this old man, I'll grant you any of the three requests."
Donghai glanced at the trail of the voice and saw a man who seemed to be in his early 30s floating in the air. The man wore a purple silk Daoist robe with a design of a white crane on the back of the robe. He had silver-white hair, tight neatly by a purple ribbon, a tall physique, a slightly lean but handsome face with a white beard, trimmed cleanly.
