The old man's cloudy eyes were fixed intently on Qu Chen's wrist, as though he wanted to peer straight through his flesh and bone. My internal alarm bells started ringing wildly, and my instinct was to pull Qu Chen's hand back. But the old man's grip was like an iron clamp, holding firmly onto Qu Chen and refusing to let go.
"Senior, what is the meaning of this?" I asked with a hostile tone, tightening my grip on the hilt of my sword.
Yet the old man acted as though he hadn't heard me at all, merely muttering to himself, "The destined one... to think he is the destined one..."
Chapter 114