“Congratulations, my friend, for having such a talented disciple!” exclaimed an extremely light voice, sounding weak and soft.
Ji Hao stood up, looking where this voice came from. Under an old pine standing over ten zhang away from Ji Hao was a middle-aged man, looking like a Daoist priest. This man had bared his feet, his long hair hanging loosely on his back, and was leaning against that old and towering pine while looking at Ji Hao and Yu Yu. This man seemed so weak and torpid as if he had never had enough to eat.
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