The Shangyang Inner Scene.
As Jiang Ning closed his eyes again, the ringing of swords in his ears grew more and more distant until it vanished completely.
His mind, too, returned to a state of crystalline stillness.
After an unknown stretch of time, hushed conversations drifted in from around him.
Jiang Ning opened his eyes. Everyone sitting cross-legged around him had the bearing of an immortal sage. The men were handsome and graceful, the women elegant and untouched by worldly dust.
Every line, every contour, seemed meticulously sculpted.
"You look a little unfamiliar, junior brother!" an elegant woman seated beside him said.
Her flowing hair was simply pinned up with a wooden hairpin. Her Daoist robes were plain white, without any excessive adornment, yet she gave the impression of an immortal from the heavens.
"You have a keen eye, senior sister. This is indeed my first visit," Jiang Ning said.
"No wonder you look unfamiliar!" The woman nodded slightly.
Then she asked, "How many years have you cultivated, junior brother?"
"Even counting everything, less than two years!" Jiang Ning answered honestly.
"Two years?" Her gaze sharpened, ripples stirring in her calm eyes. "May I ask your full name?"
"My surname is Jiang, my given name Ning," Jiang Ning said mildly.
"Jiang Ning!" Those two words emerged slowly from her red lips, a flicker of thought passing through her eyes. "I haven't heard of any illustrious figure with that surname."
"You're overthinking it, senior sister. I'm just an ordinary person," Jiang Ning said.
"To reach this point in two years is anything but ordinary. Even those who have reversed their nature to return to the innate state, with ancient inheritances behind them, couldn't accomplish that!" the woman said, her gaze clear as a mirror. "Behind you is the phantom of an