Chen Ping'an raised his eyes and gazed toward the sea.
From the mountains, one beheld the vast sea; emerald waves joined the azure heavens, and such magnificent scenery could seize the soul. Ancient tales spoke of the Dragon Palace beneath the waters, a place of boundless coolness; legend had it that the moon in the sea was rounder than the moon in the sky, and such splendid imaginings could draw one into a reverie. Thus, Daoists spoke of guarding the heart and nourishing the spirit, of not merely letting go without gathering back. One might travel ten thousand miles on foot in pursuit of learning and the Dao, but one must not be hindered by mountains and waters... Chen Ping'an gathered his thoughts.
Gu Can said, "It's fine. We can wait. An hour or two won't make a difference."
How the sect celebration was to proceed—wasn't that for the Sect Master to decide? Gu Can liked the atmosphere over at Luopo Mountain, but Fuyao Sect would not imitate Luopo Mountain.
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "The ancients had their reasons for valuing auspicious days and fortunate hours. You should still hold the ceremony on time. Don't delay it."
Gu Can said, "That's just his lazy nature. Whether he attends the ceremony or not, he's still Liu Xianyang. It doesn't matter."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "If he dares not come, then don't be his best man."
After waiting a while, just as the great sun rose from the sea, a streak of sword light tore through the sky. From the ocean to Quanjiao Mountain, it dragged an exceedingly long, dazzling trail of light behind it. The commotion was considerable, the display imposing.
Old Master Liu had finally arrived. Neither early nor late, he still had a quarter-hour to spare before the ceremony