After saying that, A Lu Zhi stared at Xu Xiang and saw her tilting her head slightly, a little confused. After a few seconds, she asked, "So you think I am the light in the prophecy?"
A Lu Zhi nodded, and Xu Xiang asked again: "How can you be so sure? There is no clue that I am the light in the prophecy."
Hearing this, A Lu Zhi shook his head and said, "No, there is one clue."
"What clue?" Xu Xiang asked curiously.
Seeing her curious look, A Lu Zhi smiled and said, "As I said before, every ancient tribe has their own prophecies. That includes the Zhiwu tribe."
He recalled the prophecy of the Zhiwu tribe and slowly said, "Crack soil, scorching sun. Life fades, death approaches. When plants grow and rain falls, that is a sign that the Savior has come."
