With Lu Yang's arrival, Bai Yang sensed that the time to set out was drawing near.
When he had first come to this world, every day had seemed so long. Now, as his cultivation advanced, time passed in training, and before he knew it, another One Yuan had quietly slipped by.
Winter came again, and snow and ice blanketed the entire world. The vast earth had turned completely black and white.
The Yuan Festival was approaching, a day of celebration across all of Tianyuan Star.
Bai Yang had never truly celebrated this world's grandest festival. It seemed he wouldn't get the chance this time, either.
Lu Yang's arrival had not disturbed Bai Yang's peaceful life. He still spent each day with Little Cat and the others before returning to his cultivation. But on the third day after Lu Yang arrived, the white-haired ascetic who had once returned from the Great Light Dynasty and happened upon Lu Yang in a saber contest also showed up.
He came bearing his saber, dust from the road covering him. He seemed to have weathered the vicissitudes of countless ages, like a pine standing proud on a sheer cliff amid wind and snow. Compared with their last meeting, he had become even more restrained—and even more terrifying.
As cold and aloof as before, he looked at Bai Yang and rasped, "One Yuan has passed. I'm here. You once said there was a place that could temper my saber path even better. What place is it? I don't have much time left. If I still can't break through, I fear I'll only get to see this much of the world's wonders!"
He was too old. The life of an ascetic had ceaselessly wrung every last drop of life and spirit from him. His time was almost