Great Bamboo Peak.
In front of Shou Jing Hall.
Spring passed and autumn came. The mountain wind swept a few fallen leaves into the air, sending them swirling down.
Ever since Zhang Xiaofan had gotten that golden Firewood Stick,
life on Great Bamboo Peak seemed to have settled back into its usual quiet.
But that calm was soon torn apart by a sharp whistle that ripped through the air.
"Aoo—!"
A dragon's roar suddenly rang out above the heavens.
A streak of azure light tore through the clouds, diving like an enraged dragon. Wrapped in a fierce gale, it hurtled straight toward Great Bamboo Peak's square.
Zhang Xiaofan, who was busy making breakfast in the dining hall, let his hand slip. The spatula nearly fell into the pot.
Lu Daxin, who had been arguing with Du Bishu over the roll of three dice, his face red with frustration, jerked his head up.
"An attack?"
He Dazhi snapped his folding fan shut. His brows knit slightly, but his gaze turned toward Shou Jing Hall.
With his hands behind his back, Tian Buyi strolled out at an unhurried pace.
His short, plump frame blocked the doorway. Far from looking alarmed or angry, he wore a smug expression that suggested he had seen this coming all along.
"What are you panicking for?"
"Such a pathetic display."
He snorted, his small eyes narrowing into slits.
The streak of light landed.
As the dust cleared, it revealed a tall, straight-backed youth.
With sharp brows and bright eyes, he wore white robes as pristine as snow and carried a sword on his back. He looked like a peerless blade newly drawn from its scabbard, its edge gleaming for all to see.
It was Lin Jingyu, who had spent the past year adventuring down the mountain.
"Master!