Buzz!
In an instant, raging waves surged within Lu Chenzhou's heart and mind!
Like a dying man jolting upright from his sickbed, as if struck by five thunders!
He had always been calm and steady, his Dao Heart unshakable.
Yet at this moment, deep inside, he felt a faint trembling.
Because he sensed—Zhang Ancestor was speaking with him…
But this was merely an illusion, a Martial Arts Imprint left by a Martial Arts Expert, the remnant of one already dead—how could such a being converse with him? The sheer terror of such a scene defied belief.
Within the illusion, Lu Chenzhou turned to look back.
The mountain valley was silent, not a soul in sight.
"Young friend?"
The slovenly Daoist's voice rang out again.
Lu Chenzhou stiffly turned his head; he tried asking:
"Senior? Are you speaking to me?"
The slovenly Daoist lay reclining, propped on his elbow, and smiled:
"I was just thinking... There's no one else around here, you know."
