"Senior, please follow me," Shensou Martial Lord said.
The three of them quickly headed towards the Eastern Alliance.
At this moment, Fat Egg Martial Lord followed behind the two, his expression tangled with conflict. Finally, he mustered the courage and said softly, "Senior, please wait!"
"Oh?" Qi Yuan stopped in his tracks, wariness lurking in his eyes, "What is it?"
Anyone who said, "Fellow Daoist, please wait," rarely had anything good to say.
"May I ask if Fellow Daoist… could be my long-lost… father?" Fat Egg Martial Lord stammered, finally voicing the question that had puzzled him for many years.
In the eyes of his tens of thousands of pounds body, there was still a thread of childlike innocence and purity.
That is the power of Bloodline.
Even the Great Martial Lord, when faced with a stronger Bloodline, a more perfect Bloodline, couldn't help but show a deference that only a junior would have.
