Big Tiger sat in an elevated seat made of profound wood. He wore a purple robe made from ice silk, which could block an attack from a Tier 2 cultivator. His hair was neatly combed into a bun, held tightly in place with a gold ornament. His face left no trace of the passage of time, but his eyes contained something that most people desire in their lives: power.
"Patriarch Su has arrived. He brought a 10,000-year-old blood ginseng," someone yelled. A few seconds later, a middle-aged man dressed in blue brocade clothes arrived in the room. He bowed politely to Big Tiger:
"All the blessings to Patriarch Jiang for his 90th birthday. May you live for a thousand years."
"A thousand years?" Big Tiger asked with a smile. "Are you trying to wish me an early death?"
Patriarch Su's body became stiff before smiling wryly. "My apologies. I wish you eternal life."
"That's more like it," Big Tiger nodded before motioning to the side. "Have a seat."
"Thank you."
