"Master..." At the instant this voice rang out, Master Danyang turned sharply in his dream and then he saw a familiar face.
It was his previously most proud disciple, Zhengkun, standing there in a green Taoist robe, serenely watching him, without a hint of hatred in his eyes.
He appeared so vivid, as if a real person was before him.
Yet, Master Danyang distinctly remembered that Zhengkun's head had been crushed by his very own foot—it was impossible that he was still alive!
The next moment, Master Danyang seemed to come to his senses, immediately flying into a rage. "Dare to fool around with tricks on this Taoist Master! I see you've grown tired of living!!"
Having scolded, Master Danyang tossed his longsword into the air with a flip of his hand.
He brought his middle and index fingers together, bit into them, and began drawing a Blood Talisman on the sword's falling blade with his fingers.
