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A cold glint flickered in the Emperor’s eyes. “Even you couldn’t find him?”
“Indeed not,” Lu Xuanxian said, still lofty, still pleased with himself.
“We came to offer sacrifice, yet it seems we must first play hide-and-seek with someone.” Off to one side, Zhao Gutong let out a razor-edged coquettish laugh. He drawled out in a sickly, sweet voice, “Then let’s snare our little Peeping Tom, shall we? Your Majesty, grant me leave. I’ll flush him out myself.”
The Emperor nodded. “Very well.”
The man in red funeral robes, Zhao Gutong, flicked both sleeves. Paper effigies whirled into the air, each swelling into a sword-riding Immortal, male and female alike, a dozen in all.
The paper sword Immortals fanned outward, combing the forest.
Circle after circle...
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