Zhang Yan shook his head and smiled, responding politely, "I am eager to return to the Mountain Gate, so I cannot stay long, I can only disappoint you, Senior."
The Middle-aged Daoist said regretfully, "I suppose you know why I am here, but this seems like an act of using strength to bully the weak, so let's do it this way: I will strike only once, no matter how you choose to block it. If you can withstand it, you may leave freely."
Zhang Yan clasped his hands respectfully and said solemnly, "Please bestow guidance, Senior."
The Middle-aged Daoist simply flicked his sleeve lightly, and instantly, the white mist on the river seemed to be driven by a hurricane, surging violently all at once.
