“This humble Daoist goes by the name Chu He (Dig Grain). I hail from the Jianmu Hall of the Palace of Absolute Beginning. I have a bit of history with your grandmaster; that old rogue Fen Hai.” The Daoist introduced himself with a broad smile—one so wide that his eyes nearly disappeared.

Wei Yuan hurriedly bowed. “Greetings, Trueman Chu He.”

Wei Yuan’s manners were impeccable, his voice was sincere, and his expression was respectful. He dared not reveal the slightest flaw from head to toe.

Setting aside the fact that anyone who could have a grudge against Trueman Fen Hai and still be alive and kicking—not to mention running about and proclaiming it everywhere—had to be a force to be reckoned with, the name “Jianmu Hall” alone possessed a powerful allure. Like the Mastercraft Hall, it had been on Wei Yuan’s mind for quite some time. Now that a Trueman of the Jianmu Hall was actually standing before him, there was no way he was going to let this guy esca—ahem. Correction, there was no way he could afford to offend this esteemed senior.

On the surface, Wei Yuan was extremely respectful, but inwardly he was muttering to himself: He has ‘a bit of history’ with Grandmaster Fen Hai? I wonder how badly he was beaten up back then. Man, I hope he doesn’t take it out on a junior like me. I mean, I don’t mind him beating me up, but what if he storms off in a huff?

Yet...