Daoist Yong'an raised his lone arm lightly, stroking his gray beard.
"The Yin Qi in that place is too heavy; it really isn't suitable for long-term cultivation."
He suddenly squinted his eyes.
"Come here."
Gu Shengchi's heart skipped a beat, but he showed no sign of it on his face, and walked forward slowly.
"What are your instructions, senior?"
"Your hand."
Gu Shengchi hesitated for a moment, then placed his right hand on Yong'an Daoist's only hand.
That hand was as rough as bark, yet surprisingly warm. Daoist Yong'an grasped his wrist, and his eyebrows gradually furrowed.
"Your body is very weak."
Daoist Yong'an's voice was low.
"Suffered at the Xuanming Divine Mountain?"
Gu Shengchi was secretly startled; this old Daoist's insight was unexpectedly sharp.
He had indeed run into trouble at the Xuanming Divine Mountain, almost losing his life, which was why he was in a hurry to leave the Holy Land to find a cure.
"Senior, you have keen eyes."
