The youth told Chen Fan that many people with spiritual roots had emerged from Windless Town, his elder sister among them. Most had joined the Rosy Cloud Sect, the closest sect to Windless Town. Thus, every year on this day, when the cultivators came down the mountain to visit their families, it was the liveliest day in town—more bustling even than the New Year.
Many little red lanterns had been hung along the streets. Some of the wealthier families had even arranged a lion dance troupe at the town entrance, along with great gongs and drums, ready to hold a grand celebration.
Yet an unexpected mishap occurred that day. Everyone waited and waited, until the sun had set and night had fallen, but no one returned.
Many people began to worry. They had never encountered such a situation before. Every year, everyone returned as planned, but an accident had occurred today.
"Everyone, disperse. Perhaps something delayed them. We'll come back and wait again tomorrow." At last, an old man stepped forward and spoke. The entire town had been waiting all day. Most of them were mortals, and many were elderly; they could not possibly keep waiting day and night.
"Xiaoxuan, how far is the Rosy Cloud Sect from here?" Chen Fan frowned as well and turned to ask the youth. Over the past few days, he had learned that the boy's surname was Wu and his name was Xiaoxuan.
"Though it's the immortal sect closest to Windless Town, it's still very far away. My sister said that even if they flew back, it would take an entire day." Wu Xiaoxuan spoke softly, worry filling his voice.
The white-haired old man's brows were tightly furrowed as well, his hands trembling faintly. His worry was too great.
"Old Wu, go back and