Meng Hao’s Virtue

"Uh… Fellow Daoist…." Huang Daxian could not stop the pounding of his heart. His face was pale white, and as he trembled, he pasted a benevolent smile onto his face. Without even thinking about it, he began to edge away.

"Haha, greetings…. What a lucky coincidence that we meet each other. Fellow Daoist, if you want to live here, well, no problem… no problem." Body quivering, Huang Daxian immediately made to leave.

However, as he did, Meng Hao's calm eyes swept over him, coming to rest on his feet. A tremor ran through Huang Daxian's body. He didn't dare to move even an inch. Beads of cold sweat began to bead up on his forehead and then drip down his pale face. It seemed almost like as soon as Meng Hao's gaze landed on his feet, they suddenly didn't belong to him any more.