The day of the tri-daily patrol arrived.
With several packets of medicinal powder in hand, Bai Mo re-entered the black prison.
He walked straight ahead, eyes fixed forward. The fiends in the prison clamored endlessly, but Bai Mo turned a deaf ear.
He continued to the end of the passage. After a silent headcount confirmed that all the fiends were present and that there were no disturbances, he relaxed.
Reassured, Bai Mo turned and headed back toward Xiao Lin's cell.
To his surprise, he heard a voice halfway there—cautious, yet tinged with a fawning tone.
"Young man, young man…"
"This old man is over here!"
Bai Mo paused. He'd been here several times, but this was the first prisoner to be so polite to him.
He glanced to the side and saw a gaunt old man in a worn, gray robe.
With his photographic memory, Bai Mo matched the man's face to the prison roster and recalled his name.
Sun Qian, a Cultivator who had reached the Nascent Soul realm through unorthodox means.
