A voice came from the mountain peak to the left. "Fellow Daoist Wuyan, who was that person just now?"
"A wanderer adrift across rivers and seas, a single leaf carrying spring on the wind!" Ming Wuyan said. "This little woman has now resumed the name my parents gave me: Ming Tianyan. Fellow Daoist, please do not call me Wuyan. There are so many shameless travelers under heaven—how could this little woman dare call herself 'Wuyan' before these seniors?"
Without a sound, Ming Tianyan shot into the sky and vanished!
All the recluses were startled at once.
There was a hidden barb in those words...
How many shameless travelers were there under heaven? This little woman did not dare call herself shameless before her seniors!
The words sounded refined and elegant, yet their sharpness was peerless.
There were far too many shameless people in the world—and they were all seniors!
Compared with these brazen, shameless scoundrels, I am nothing!
What did that reveal?
After hiding beneath Mount Wuyou for eight hundred years, she had not developed a Buddha-nature. Instead, she had whetted herself into an even sharper sword. What storms and tempests would this extraordinary woman, who had once shaken the Holy Hall with her shocking brilliance, write anew?
This was becoming a big matter!
Her sudden change was because of the man who had arrived.
Who was he?
Why could he make an ancient well, tranquil for eight hundred years, surge once more with wild waves? Why could he earn such lavish praise from this woman who held her head above the clouds: a wanderer adrift across rivers and seas, a single leaf carrying spring on the wind?
Wherever he went, he was a breath of spring!
Even in the Valley of Forgetfulness, where the Holy Hall's great masters lived