The surge of wild joy in Jiang Qi's heart made his attitude grow even more deferential. He practically spoke in a tone of worship: "Lord Demon Saint, being able to receive your aid is my greatest honor!"
The black‑robed man showed not the slightest emotional fluctuation in response to Jiang Qi's flattery. He looked at Jiang Qi with cold indifference, his voice still hoarse and icy: "Saint Heir of the Jiang Clan, where is Xue Wei's Token?"
The words were like a basin of cold water, instantly dousing the wild joy in Jiang Qi's heart. His face suddenly turned pale, a wave of panic crashing through him. Xue Wei's Token! He abruptly remembered that the Token had clearly still been on him before—why had it suddenly vanished now?
Jiang Qi hurriedly lowered his head and started fumbling over his body. His fingers anxiously probed into his collar, his waist, even the hidden pouch inside his shoes, yet the Token seemed to have evaporated into thin air, with no trace to be found.
