The sloppy Daoist, who called himself Old Daoist Jiang Youxing, trembled and wailed.
"The three Immortal Lords may not know this, but I was forced into a corner. I had no choice but to seek protection from you. If the three Immortal Lords are still extremely angry, you can kill me at any time."
Jian Wushuang, Jiang Li and Yan Fan looked at each other and said coldly, "Leave."
"Thank you, three Immortal lords." The sloppy Daoist bowed deeply, then crawled up from the void, his face filled with gratitude.
It was not until then that Jian Wushuang saw the old Daoist's face clearly.
His disheveled and withered hair was casually tied behind his head by a bone hairpin, revealing a sunken and dry yellow face. His two mustaches made him look even more wretched.
Under the open robe, Jian Wushuang could see a pair of skinny bones. He wondered how this guy had survived until now.
Yan Fan pursed his lips and turned around to leave.
