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Xuanmiao Temple.
A steady spring drizzle fell in sheets, as several disciples within the temple busied themselves with gathering qi on the wind. Their bodies glided through the rain like fish in the sea, the pale green light in their hands continuously collecting and condensing into streams of qi.
A middle-aged layman with a square face and plain robes lifted the hem of his garment as he walked along the slick stone steps in wooden clogs. His movements resembled those of an ordinary mortal without cultivation.
Upon reaching the courtyard, he pushed open the door and called out with a smile, "Zhaojing, please come in!"
A Daoist Master in white robes embroidered with golden patterns entered. His features were refined, his face youthful, and though his eyes held no malice, the calm sweep of his gaze was enough to make the surrounding disciples lower their heads in unison.
Li Ximing followed him up the steps and replied,...
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