Meng Hao's hand slowly tightened around the jade slip.
Although he kept his thoughts concealed deeply in his heart, and would not easily reveal them, Patriarch Song had practiced cultivation for many years, and was able to pick up on some clues from the motion of Meng Hao's hand. He knew that his gamble had paid off.
Meng Hao took a deep breath, then clasped hands and bowed deeply to Patriarch Song.
"Many thanks!" he said.
He said nothing more than those two words, but to Patriarch Song, that was enough. He nodded and clasped hands in return.
"Meng Hao, my young friend, if you ever go to the Eastern Lands, the Song Clan's branch there may be able to provide you with some assistance."
Meng Hao nodded, then, without another word, transformed into a beam of light that shot off into the distance.
