Cang Yue was still wearing that fitted leather armor. The rough leather clung to his lean frame, making him look less like a Cultivator of the Heaven Sect's Fourth Realm and more like a down-and-out soldier, or a Rogue Cultivator from some remote frontier.
He lowered his head and stared at the Communication Token in his hand as it gradually turned into specks of Wood Spirit light. A trace of emotion flashed through his eyes, perhaps one only he could understand.
Once the token had completely vanished, he raised his head and looked toward the colossal flying vessel in the distance, towering like a mountain.
A sensation of weightlessness suddenly struck him, and his consciousness swayed slightly. Yet he quickly lowered his head and assumed a humble posture. Only when the solid feel of the deck came beneath his feet did he cautiously lift his eyes and look ahead.
Wang Ping stood on the upper deck from before, dressed in a blue Daoist robe. His expression was calm, his gaze still as water.
Cang Yue immediately cupped his fists and bowed, his voice loud and respectful. "Greetings, True Monarch Changqing!" After bowing, he dropped to his knees without hesitation and performed the grand kowtow of a junior Disciple.
Wang Ping frowned slightly. He disliked such formalities, finding them overly ostentatious and even somewhat hypocritical. Yet he did not speak to stop him, merely watched Cang Yue's bowed body in silence.
Yulian had no such patience. Coiled around Wang Ping's shoulder, she fixed her golden Vertical Pupils on Cang Yue and said bluntly, "We do not care for these empty courtesies. Getting the job done is what matters. No matter how weighty the ritual, if you botch the task, you will still be punished."
"Yes!"
Cang Yue remained prostrate, his voice