Xu Zimei stared at the old man in the red robe,
whose presence felt boundless and endless, majestic and overwhelming.
Clad in a red robe, he stood quietly in front of the caravan, his face heavily made up.
His stature was short, around one and a half meters.
At that moment, he was grinning at Xu Zimei with a smile.
"Who are you?" Xu Zimei frowned and asked.
"May I have a private word with the young master?" the old man in the red robe asked with a smile.
Xu Zimei pondered and looked at the caravan, then finally nodded slightly.
He followed behind the old man, moving as fleet as a flying eagle, climbing up the rocky wall.
In a matter of seconds, he had leaped onto the cliff and stood atop a precipice.
A cold wind suddenly picked up, rustling his clothes.
"Before introducing myself, I'd like to ask the young master a question," the old man in the red robe said with kind eyes and a gentle smile.
"How have you found your days in the Form Blood Space?"
