Li Huowang sensed something was wrong. He clenched his fists and slammed them against his own head several times in a row.
When he realized this wasn't working, Li Huowang pulled out a long needle and jabbed it between his fingers. The searing pain finally stopped his wild imagination.
Huffing, Li Huowang let out a slow breath as cold sweat streamed down his face. He glanced at his red Daoist Robe and gritted his teeth. No matter what the Fate Commander truly was, it was his enemy now, and he had to face it.
Just then, Li Huowang suddenly noticed a gaze on him.
"Who's there?! Come out!" With a low shout, three of his tentacles snatched out three swords in an instant.
Then he saw Chan Du, the abbot of Zhengde Temple of Da Qi, slowly walking over from a nearby alley.
"Benefactor Li, this humble monk has a small favor to ask. Would you be so kind as to lend a hand?"
