Ji Zhenzong finished reciting the mantra, nodded slightly, took a small knife from his bosom, cut his finger, and pressed the fresh blood onto the scroll. This masterfully painted scroll was now utterly marred by this streak of blood, its artistic conception completely destroyed. However, Ji Zhenzong naturally didn't care about this; his eyes widened as he wanted to see what exactly the two Immortals looked like.
But after waiting for a long time, the scroll remained motionless. The whole stone room was also eerily quiet.
"What's going on?" He couldn't help but speak out.
"Quiet! We're discussing," came the gruff voice impatiently. After a while, it continued, "Though you carry the bloodline of Guanglingzi, it's very weak in you. Such a small amount of blood is not enough to break the Sealing!
"Ah?" Ji Zhenzong was stunned, "So my blood is no good. Then it has nothing to do with me, I'm leaving." He picked up his feet and began to walk back.
