He looked Meng Hao over and then quietly said, “Please produce your invitation slip, Fellow Daoist. If you have no invitation slip, then your Sect identification medallion will do.”
Meng Hao’s eyes flickered beneath his bamboo hat. Without a word, he waved his hand and a medallion flew forward to land in the old man’s hand. The old man looked at it, and suddenly a look of respect appeared in his eyes. He handed the medallion back with two hands.
“So, you’re from the Violet…”