The third month of spring arrived.
The rumble of thunder gradually faded away.
Early in the morning.
The mist hung hazily, like bleary eyes forced open by the rosy dawn. As it rubbed itself awake, figures drifted along the bustling long street, and rising steam was crushed beneath a leather boot.
A Dharma robe swayed, as though tearing open the ripples before it.
A not particularly tall figure gnawed on a berry as he darted across the broad paving stones.
Bang.
A youth who looked rather old ran straight into the fast-moving cultivator, colliding with him chest to chest.
The cultivator did not get angry. He even helped the youth back to his feet.
The youth apologized, thanked him, and took his leave. Only after walking some distance away did he pull out the money pouch in his robes. Opening it, he muttered, "Poor bastard."
"Same to you."
The cultivator likewise held a money pouch in his hand and said with a cheerful smile.
Casually tossing the pouch into the pocket of a hurried passerby, the cultivator clasped his hands behind his back and lifted his legs to continue onward.
More and more people filled the road, and quite a few had already spread their protective qi around themselves.
Their gazes blazed like torches, shining with divine light.
There was no need to examine the spiritual aura around them. From those eyes alone, one could tell that most of them were Golden Core True Persons.
Yet there was not the slightest composure on the faces of these Golden Core True Persons. Instead, they were filled with urgency and excitement.
Naturally, someone guided those who came here.
The cultivator was already thoroughly familiar with the route and headed straight for the place he wished to reach.
Beside the notice board stood