Time kept slipping away.
That year, Gu Hui finally began formally cultivating the Zhu Xian Sword Art, the technique that had shaken the world.
Another thirty years passed, and a cliff on the Back Mountain of Tongtian Peak became a new forbidden area of the Qingyun Sect.
The cliff platform was small, wreathed in clouds and mist year-round, its spiritual energy so rich that it seemed like an immortal realm.
But few dared approach it now, for an awe-inspiring figure often appeared there.
At that moment, a figure in dark green sat cross-legged on the platform.
Six azure Taiji Yin-Yang Diagrams slowly revolved around him, radiating the profound and unfathomable aura of the Dao.
Within those slowly turning diagrams seemed to lie the deepest mysteries of heaven and earth.
Every movement of Yin and Yang followed the laws of the Dao.
A disciple whose cultivation was insufficient would risk having his Divine Soul shaken—or even destroyed—by a single reckless glance.
That was why the cliff platform had long since become a forbidden place that Qingyun Sect disciples spoke of with dread.
After an unknown length of time, a tall, slender young man appeared quietly at the platform's edge.
He stopped about five or six zhang from the revolving diagrams.
Then he bowed respectfully to the seated figure.
"Master."
The young man had sharp brows, bright eyes, and a handsome face. Every gesture carried an extraordinary grace; anyone who saw him would have praised him as a cut above the rest.
He was none other than Gu Hui's first disciple, Xiao Yicai, who had been chosen as the Qingyun Sect's next leader.
And the figure seated at the center of the platform was, of course, the Qingyun Sect's supreme leader, Daoxuan.
"What is it?"
Daoxuan remained seated with his eyes closed.