In front, a middle-aged man wearing a pure white robe stood in mid-air, his demeanor graceful and dignified, exuding the presence of a Banished Immortal.
He Shutong narrowed his cold eyes:
"Xun Yuan?"
The man named Xun Yuan laughed heartily and said, "I never expected, after ninety years, the Lotus Sword Venerable still remembers my name. It truly makes me feel flattered."
"Someone as repulsive as you is hard to forget." He Shutong's tone was cold and dangerous, like the soft chime of a chilling sword.
Yet Xun Yuan was not angry, maintaining a calm and collected demeanor.
Unbeknownst to him, in He Shutong's eyes, Xun Yuan presented a different image, his white robe entwined with a crimson python, its scales dense, and the patterns on the scales resembling fallen eyeballs, complemented by Xun Yuan's face that hung like decaying flesh, rendering him extraordinarily grotesque.
"A beauty like the Lotus Sword Venerable is equally difficult to forget."
