Deep in a quiet bamboo grove in the Sword Sect's inner grounds stood a small courtyard, reached by a winding path of bluestone slabs.
A tall, imposing man with a heroic bearing and a stooped old woman walked along the stone path and stopped before the entrance.
Cloud patterns were carved into the door, and its mottled surface spoke of the passage of time.
As they pushed the door open, a faint sandalwood fragrance wafted out to greet them.
Soft light filled the room. Sunlight filtering through the paper windows scattered across the floor in flecks, casting swaying shadows.
Several simple meditation cushions lay in the center, facing a landscape painting hung on the wall. The ink blurred across the paper, evoking a profound artistic conception.
In the corner stood an exquisite incense burner. Wisps of smoke rose slowly, mingling with the sandalwood fragrance in the air and soothing the mind.
"Sit," Ji Yue said coolly.
Then she sat down first.
Gu Mo gazed at her aged face and stood silently for a long while. In the end, he sat down on a cushion beside her.
"Fellow Daoist Ji Yue, why did you become... like this?"
Ji Yue's gaze was calm. Her voice was neither loud nor soft. "The Immortal Pass is hard to breach. That's all."
"..." Gu Mo fell silent at her words.
He himself was about to face that same step. How could he not know how perilous it was?
Throughout history, countless heroes had lived and died, yet very few had reached their level. And those who had breached the Immortal Pass and attained immortality numbered only a handful since time immemorial.
Still... Though he had guessed as much when they met, seeing a once-vigorous fellow Daoist reduced to this frail, withered state filled him with