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"Calling mortals gods and immortals isn't anything strange, but for cultivators to call themselves gods and immortals—how ignorant and fearless." Senior Brother Yan wore the same expression as he looked toward Zheng Roumin and continued asking, "Do you know what sect or school they belonged to? What style of clothes were they wearing? Brother Zheng, do you remember?"
"I remember. I dream about what they looked like every night." As Zheng Roumin spoke, he rummaged through a cabinet drawer and pulled out a small booklet. It contained drawings of various clothing styles, and he had even sketched the vague appearances of the people from that time. He had clearly put his heart into it. He must have been extremely protective of that child, Qian Cai.
"What is this..." Senior Brother Yan asked, pointing at the booklet.
"I drew their appearances and clothing styles. Over the past few years, I secretly investigated their origins as well. Unfortunately, these people were as elusive as a divine dragon—showing their heads but never their tails. Still, I managed to find several places in the city where they had once stayed. I also noticed that they had brought along a child at the time, about the same age as Qian Cai. The child looked to match the one whose family I had previously learned had sent her away." Zheng Roumin explained.
"Oh? Brother Zheng, tell us exactly what happened." Senior Brother Yan immediately asked. He vaguely felt that this might have been some overseas sect taking in disciples. If they could trace it back to the source, perhaps they could find Qian Cai.
Zheng Roumin nodded. "All right. It happened like this. There was another child in the city whom they took away. Over the past few years, I occasionally kept in contact with