The world was shrouded in a vast expanse of white—not a pure white, but a textured, slightly pale gray, like the depths of endless mist.0

The white fog swirled gently with the wind.0

In the depths of the mist sat a young Daoist. His simple robe, washed so often it had faded to a pale hue, wrapped around him as he sat cross-legged. The mist circled around him, flowing softly.0

Suddenly, divine light descended.0

“Swish!”0

Within the fog, a godly figure appeared.0

It was a rugged yet elegant middle-aged man, his hair casually loose, a beard framing his face. He wore an ancient and magnificent robe, exuding a restrained divine radiance. He seemed both carefree and refined—a perfect blend of nonchalance and sophistication.0

“Divine Lord, it has been a long time,” Song You said, standing and bowing politely upon seeing him.0

“I can’t even remember how long it’s been,” Divine Lord Yuewang replied, standing with his hands cupped behind his back, his eyes fixed intently on Song You. “But I do recall you mocking me before.”1

“It has been six or seven years. For you, Divine Lord, that might feel like the blink of an eye, but for us mortals, it’s quite a long time,” Song You replied calmly, purposefully ignoring the latter half of the Divine Lord’s comment. “After traveling across half of Great Yan in these six or seven years, what left the deepest impression...0