Zhongzhou, Shangluo. It was already late summer.
That year, the Shangluo region had suffered drought and scant rain. By late summer, heat still steamed from the ground, making the air unbearably stifling. In such weather, many people gathered at roadside herbal tea stalls or teahouses, sipping chilled tea as they discussed recent events in Shangluo and chatted about everyday affairs.
All of a sudden, with a whoosh, a fierce wind swept through the capital's broad carriage road without warning. It came out of nowhere and was exceptionally strong, instantly blowing down and overturning the awnings of many roadside fruit stalls and tea shops. Clothes hung out between homes and trays set out to dry were also swept up with a rustle, whirling through the narrow lanes.
Many tea drinkers who had nearly been struck by the collapsing awnings leapt up in alarm. Curses rang out through the streets and alleys.
Yet all of them could not help lifting their heads to look at the sky. The azure heavens above them had suddenly been shrouded in layer upon layer of dark clouds, as though an enormous black lid had been placed over all of Shangluo. The clouds rolled and churned without cease, like countless flood dragons advancing forward, a terrifying sight.
Yet although the entire sky had darkened, not a single drop of rain fell.
Everyone looking up saw several brilliant streaks of radiance high above the dark clouds, in the boundless vault of heaven, streaking southeast at incredible speed.
"What happened?"
"Are those immortals?"
"What on earth is going to happen?!"
"Why has it come again?"
All manner of expressions appeared on their faces. These people, who did not even know that cultivators existed and regarded those who flew through the sky on sword light as immortals, began to sink