He stood there without moving for a long while, as if someone had cast a immobilization spell on him.
Like an ancient pine that had stood rooted amid mist-shrouded mountains for a hundred years, he did not shift in the slightest for a long time.
He had thought that when the old sword immortal gave him a small stone house, having a clean place to sleep and a roof to keep off the rain would be enough to satisfy him.
He had even calculated in his mind how large the stone house might be. Enough room for a bed and a table would do. If it also had a window through which he could listen to the wind and rain outside, that would be an unexpected delight.
Yet he had never imagined it would be a small courtyard!
And such an exquisite, tranquil little courtyard at that!
It was in no way inferior to the little courtyard behind the mountain at the Phoenix City Daoist temple. It even seemed more secluded and peaceful than that place.
That place had ultimately belonged to the Daoist temple, so interruptions were inevitable—the footsteps of worshippers, the comings and goings of his fellow disciples. It was still cultivation amid the mortal world.
But this place was his, entirely and completely his!
This mountain was his. These clouds were his. Every raindrop falling from these eaves was his.
Coming back to himself, he could not help murmuring, "What a paradise beyond the world."
His voice was soft, as though he feared disturbing this tranquility.
He slowly raised a hand as if to touch something, only to stop in midair. His divine sense had already examined every inch of the courtyard countless times—
Three main rooms, a reception hall, an osmanthus tree in the yard, green