Chapter 670: Crisis Approaches (2/2)

The reaction was a type of intuition on his part. After a sharp intake of breath, the middle-aged man instantly clasped hands and bowed.

“I am Han Feng of the junior generation. Greetings, senior. I come on orders from my Master to invite you to have a chat with him.”

As soon as the man arrived, Sun Yunliang’s face flickered and he clasped hands in greetings. When the seven old men saw him, looks of awe appeared on their faces, and they also bowed.

Meng Hao looked at the middle-aged man, and his eyes narrowed slightly. Then he turned his head to look at the tower that rose up in the middle of Seahold.

“Your Master is Saint Sun Soul?” he asked coolly.

“My Master is indeed Saint Sun Soul,” replied the man, his tone respectful.

Meng Hao looked back at Sun Yunliang. “I’ll be with Saint Sun Soul,” he said. “You get the Spirit Stone situation sorted out and then come looking for me. How many Demon Hearts I give you will depend on how many Spirit Stones you can afford offer.” Saint Sun Soul’s apprentice gaped in response to Meng Hao’s words, and Wei Li stood there nervously.

Sun Yunliang immediately sent a message. He didn’t provide specific details; he just related the information about how many Demon hearts Meng Hao had. The apprentice’s eyes went wide, and he gasped.

Now he understood why his Master had sent him here.

“How could he possibly have so many Demon hearts?” he thought. It was with even more reverence that he escorted Meng Hao as they flew off toward the tower.

Wei Li was with them, and the closer they got to the tower, the more nervous she got. In the short period of time in which she had followed Meng Hao, she had seen more incredible things than she normally would have seen in her entire life.

That was especially true of the scene that had just played out regarding the Demon hearts, which seemed as if it might cause her heart to stop beating entirely. She had known Meng Hao was rich, but could never have imagined… that he was THAT rich.

Perhaps his wealth couldn’t compare to that of an entire country, but it was no exaggeration that it could rival a great Sect.

Soon, the three of them reached the tower. Meng Hao turned to look back at Wei Li.

The apprentice immediately clasped hands and bowed.

“Senior, don’t worry. I, of the junior generation, will arrange accommodations for this Fellow Daoist.”

Meng Hao nodded. Seeing that Wei Li did not object, he turned and flew directly toward the top level of the tower, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

When he reappeared, he was inside the tower.

Black-robed Saint Sun Soul sat cross-legged behind a wide table, his face expressionless. Next to him was the elegant and poised woman, his wife. She was sniffing a flagon of alcohol when Meng Hao appeared. She looked at him and smiled warmly.

“You offered me some alcohol,” said Saint Sun Soul. “Now, I’d like to offer you some in return.” Even as he spoke, his wife brought the alcohol flagon over. She then produced two glasses, into which she distributed the alcohol. After that, she sat down next to Saint Sun Soul and looked over curiously at Meng Hao.

Meng Hao said nothing as he sat down directly across from Saint Sun Soul. He picked up the glass of alcohol, looked it over, then drank it in one mouthful.

When the alcohol entered his mouth, it felt freezing cold, and made his entire body feel as if it were being frozen. It even seemed as if the alcohol were about to extinguish the flame of his life force.

The coldness entered his Qi passageways and spread throughout his entire person. Even his Cultivation base was frozen in the blink of an eye. His Divine Sense slowed down, and he almost began to slip into slumber. It was even hard to think.

He was so cold that frost appeared on his skin; it almost seemed like the alcohol in the cup could turn him into a statue of ice.

This alcohol would most certainly kill any ordinary Spirit Severing Cultivator who drank it. However, Meng Hao’s fleshly body was far too powerful for that. Although his Cultivation base and Divine Sense had been frozen over, his fleshly body only vibrated slightly. In a short moment, thousands of these vibrations occurred. The frequency of the vibrations seemed to accord with some great Dao, and within the space of about ten breaths, white steam began to rise up from the top of his head. It filled the entire top level of the tower, and even caused the walls to make cracking sounds as they frosted over.

A serious expression appeared in the eyes of the elegant woman, and although Saint Sun Soul’s face was expressionless, his eyes were cold as he stared at Meng Hao.

“Your alcohol isn’t very strong, at least, not as strong as mine.” Meng Hao slapped his bag of holding to produce, not another gourd bottle, but Han Shan’s bronze alcohol flagon. He also pulled out a glass which he then filled with alcohol and slid across to Saint Sun Soul.

“Please, be my guest,” he said coolly.

Saint Sun Soul’s face twitched as he looked down at the glass. He hesitated, which was something he rarely did.

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This chapter was sponsored by Vong Her, Yanuar Yaputra, Michael Michalczyk, Panusit Chomanan, David How, Nikita Belyaev, and AdiNugraha Tawakal