Fatty stared at them with wide-eyed, his expression one of disbelief. “But I’m already here,” he said.
“Little Patriarch,” said Zhou Daya hurriedly, “don’t you know about all those Junior Sisters back in the Sect who have eyes for you? Plus, you have several official beloved assigned to you by the Sect Leader. They’re all waiting for you….” He understood Fatty the most, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Fatty took a deep breath.
“Alright, forget it. Let’s just go along to watch the fun.”
At the same time as the Golden Frost Sect disciples were trying to dissuade Fatty from participating, off in the distance, Wang Youcai floated in mid-air looking thoughtful. A strange aura circulated around his body. He appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen years old, but also emanated an extremely anti-social air. He gazed toward the enormous tree, lost in thought.
He looked at Fatty, and then Meng Hao. Whenever Meng Hao looked back at him, however, he would avert his eyes.
Whatever had happened between him and Dong Hu, it seemed would remain a secret that only the two of them could understand. 2
The mournful, screaming wind whipped the sea into madness. The dark shadows which swam back and forth in its depths made this whole place seem incredibly awe-inspiring. Amidst the howling wind, everyone surged forward. The wind blasted against their faces as they shot toward the enormous tree.
—–