As Zhao Dong stared as if he had seen a ghost, the young man slowly approached and sat down cross-legged before him.
He grinned as he sized up Zhao Dong, then nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad, not bad. You do have some talent. No wonder you claimed victory."
Zhao Dong swallowed hard and retracted his shocked gaze, muttering, "How… how did you blast open the cell door? Is the dungeon's Formation ineffective against you?"
The young man curled his lip in disdain. "Like I said, this place can't hold me. If I want to leave, I can do so at any time. Forget this dungeon; there's nowhere in the entire Qingyun Sect I can't go!"
After he spoke, the young man patted Zhao Dong's shoulder, stood, and looked toward the exit, laughing heartily. "Kid, I've taken a liking to you. Want to come out for a few drinks?"
"Hahaha! Fellow Daoist, you are a man of true style! Forget a few drinks, I'd be happy to drink with you all night!" Zhao Dong was overjoyed and immediately shot to his feet.
