Thus It Was

The cultivator with his hair bound back and a richly colored face removed his bamboo hat and recounted the "story" of his travels.

Venerable Fallen Flame sat like an elder at home, hands tucked into his sleeves, leaning against the armrest of his chair.

It would have been even better with a pouch of dry tobacco.

The Venerable did not smoke, so naturally he had no tobacco pouch.

His golden hair, bound beneath a Flat-Heaven Crown, and his dark-gold eyes made all passersby solemn no matter what expression he wore. There was not the slightest hesitation or weakness in him; he was like a stern divine statue standing immovable.

At that moment, the "divine statue" hesitated, wanting to speak but stopping himself. If possible, he truly wished to wrench open his throat and let out a great shout.

But recalling the prior instructions, he could only suppress it gloomily.

Instead, he asked, "How long will you stay?"

"Not long."

"About ten days to half a month. There are still matters in the sect that need handling." Venerable Myriad Spirits did not mind Fallen Flame's many questions. Instead, he explained with a genial smile.

As one of the candidate Dao Sons, most people stayed cooped up in the sect. Who would run about everywhere? Even when they went out, it was mostly for the sake of their own cultivation.

Fallen Flame also wanted to persuade Jinghong to return early.

This position had to be watched closely. It must not be snatched away by someone else.

Strength was indeed the hard truth, but all the candidate Dao Sons were geniuses of the sect, each capable of standing on their own. Could they truly be sent into an arena to fight to the death before the matter was settled?

That would not do.