Tying the Red Thread

"Why did you bring me here?" Feng Xuetao asked.

For a great cultivator of Haoran Mountain Peak to ascend to another world, there were rules upon rules. First came permission from the Temple of Literature; then a Confucian Sage stationed at the Sky Curtain had to open a passage. Otherwise, it was easy to lose one's way and stray into some strange secret realm beyond the heavens, with almost no hope of retracing the path. The ascent itself was perilous, too. A cultivator had to contend with the dazzling, seven-colored River of Time, born of a Great Dao manifestation. One misstep could wear away a vast amount of cultivation and shorten his life. So on this trip to the Sword Qi Great Wall, with A Liang "joining hands" with him and clearing the way, Feng Xuetao had traveled with ease. As for why A Liang had not entered the Savage World through the gate at the Inverted Mountain ruins, Feng Xuetao could not be bothered to ask. He took it as the bastard showing off his swordsmanship.

"You're not quite like that Qing Gong Grand Guardian," A Liang said.

"Not like him?" Feng Xuetao sneered. "Didn't Zuo's sword strike me too?"

A Liang clicked his tongue and laughed. "Still got a temper, have you?"

Nan Guangzhao, Jing Hao, Feng Xuetao.

The Daoist names of three Ascension Realm cultivators: Tianqu, Qing Gong Grand Guardian, and Qing Mi. Each sounded more imposing than the last.

And I don't have one.

The thought left A Liang a little sad.

Feng Xuetao, beneath A Liang's feet, had a private grudge with Zhou Shenzhi, the old Sword Immortal of the Central Divine Continent. Feng Xuetao had started out as a Wild Cultivator, and his path of cultivation had earned him the Daoist name Qing Mi.