Gu Wen asked again, "Is Jiang Fugui still well?"
Hearing this, the middle-aged Daoist's expression changed slightly, and then he shook his head, "This Taoist does not know anyone named Jiang Fugui."
"Is that so? Then there is no matter."
Gu Wen continued to walk forward, the fog ahead obscuring everything. He could only see a distance of ten feet, with all other senses also confined within that range.
Oppressive, narrow, solitary.
Suddenly, a bright light carrying a token flew into his bosom; the world expanded, and everything returned to normal.
The middle-aged Daoist transmitted a thought.
'Do not draw attention. If we are discovered, this Taoist might be confined for decades.'
Gu Wen smiled knowingly, also considering himself one of the Jiang family's ilk, always preferring to profit personally.
Another ten days passed, six million steps, Foundation Establishment.
