After a while, Zhao Sheng slowly walked to the mountainside, where an ancient pine tree grew robustly beside the left path, its lush canopy surrounded by clusters of spirit cloud.
"Stop!"
At this moment, a crisp voice suddenly called from behind the tree.
As soon as the words fell, a young Daoist in a dark Daoist robe emerged suddenly from behind the tree.
The young Daoist had a face as fair as jade powder, lips as if painted with vermillion, hair styled with two buns, a cinnabar mark on his forehead, and eyes that were bright and clear, exuding an aura untouched by the mundane world.
Zhao Sheng stopped in his tracks and examined the ethereal and extraordinary young Daoist.
"Who are you? Why do you trespass on my family's Immortal Island?" The young Daoist's brows were stern as he questioned aggressively.
