"Feng Tingchen, at your service."
"Half-Saint Ye's august arrival has brought glory to the humble Wind Clan."
As all beneath bowed with clasped hands, Feng Tingchen swept through the air to welcome the Half-Saint. Neither servile nor overbearing, he made one feel as though bathed in a spring breeze.
There was not a trace of a sword cultivator's sharp aura about him. He looked like nothing more than an ordinary old man.
A simple, plain blue-white sword robe set off his long, graying hair at the temples, bringing out a tall man's upright bearing and lending him a touch of unrestrained grace.
"You are too courteous, Elder Feng."
Ye Xiaotian calmly shifted his gaze, first noticing the sword hanging at Feng Tingchen's chest and waist.
Famous Sword Twenty-One, Crane Sword Tingchen.
It was over three feet long. Upon its guard was carved a white crane with a vermilion crown spreading its wings. The entire sword was dark yellow, transcendent and unworldly.
Just like Feng Tingchen himself—unknown and inconspicuous, hidden away from the world, yet still possessing a heart for struggle.
Ye Xiaotian raised his head slightly.
The old man's brows were very pale, and wrinkles lined his forehead.
His face bore the signs of declining years, yet his eyes were more spirited than those of young men in their prime, shining brightly.
All ancient sword cultivators are alike—courteous on the surface, but their hearts soar higher than the heavens...
Ye Xiaotian silently mused, rising slightly to remain level with Feng Tingchen without exceeding him.
In terms of cultivation, he was a Half-Saint, while Feng Tingchen was merely a Sword Immortal.
Yet the latter's combat strength was unknown. Judging from that realm of returning to simplicity throughout his body, he was likely not much weaker than an ordinary Half-Saint.
In terms