Golden morning light spilled down from the heavens, illuminating the crimson Glazed Jade tiles until they gleamed gold and red.
Streaks of cultivators' spirit light halted before the Spirit Palace, and after exchanging greetings, they entered together.
Ye Jingcheng was among them. Quite a few people greeted him along the way, but he had only met them once and knew their names; he had never formed any deep friendships with them.
Thus, he politely returned a few words before continuing toward the palace.
"Daoist Ye, you've emerged from seclusion?" A voice unexpectedly rang out.
Ye Jingcheng looked closely and saw that it was Mystic Puppet True Monarch.
Compared to more than ten years ago, however, Mystic Puppet True Monarch seemed far more weathered. He no longer possessed the radiant gaze and wind-swept robes Ye Jingcheng remembered from their first meeting.
"Daoist Mystic Puppet, how have you been these past ten years?" Seeing that the other man seemed hesitant to speak, Ye Jingcheng asked first.
"I've been well enough for now. It's just that I won't be able to drink Daoist Jiang's Azure Dragon Brew anymore." Mystic Puppet True Monarch spoke with deep sorrow.
Ye Jingcheng froze upon hearing this. In his mind, the image of Jiang Daorong surfaced uncontrollably—the man who had once gifted him spirit wine and entered the Southern Barbarian State with him to seize the Ten Thousand Year Cold Marrow Liquid.
For a long while, he said nothing.
"Daoist Jiang also gave me some Evergreen Whisker Carp, but wine not brewed by Daoist Jiang is ultimately still far inferior." Mystic Puppet True Monarch continued.
"Do you know who did it?" Ye Jingcheng did not offer further comfort. He understood that aside from Jiang Daorong's death, Mystic Puppet True Monarch was also grieving like a rabbit mourning a