The winding path was rugged and uneven, with the faint sound of bells carried by the wind, drifting in and out of hearing.
Yet somehow, it entered Zhang Yuan's ears with perfect clarity.
His intuition told him, someone else was approaching!
Just as Zhang Yuan was about to control the Red-eyed Crow to check the situation, a gray-robed Daoist riding a donkey suddenly appeared in his line of sight.
He saw the donkey with blue-gray fur nodding and swaying as it walked along the path, the bell hanging beneath its neck jingling in rhythm.
The Daoist, sitting askew on the donkey's back, was white-haired and his face full of wrinkles, etched with the vicissitudes of time.
The old Daoist had his eyes half-closed, his body swaying left and right with the donkey.
Looking as if he might fall off at any moment.
Zhang Yuan's pupils suddenly contracted!
