The Rakshasa Ghost King was untrustworthy.
Daoist Xiao, and the Eight Sceneries Palace behind him, were equally impossible to set one's mind at ease around.
Of course Yu Ci would not believe that just because they belonged to the same Xuanmen they were as close as a single family. One only had to look at the specific situation of the three Daoist branches colliding in the Southern Kingdom to make that crystal clear.
Naturally, on the surface, he definitely had to adopt a different attitude toward Daoist Xiao than the one he held toward the Rakshasa Ghost King.
Yu Ci chose indifference.
For many years I have failed to rebuild even a single brick or tile of the mountain gate, and it is already a stroke of fortune that I am not branded a criminal. How could I dare rank alongside the founding masters?
The will he projected carried no emotion at all, yet when interpreted at that moment, it distinctly tasted of estrangement.
Daoist Xiao, however, did not put on the slightest airs—and if he did, it was the graceful and poised demeanor of a sect-leading sage:
"Why must Your Daoist Friend belittle yourself so? Keeping the Shangqing lineage's orthodox tradition unbroken and gathering its vital energy once more is already a merit without peer. Rising up the mountain gate once again is merely a matter of time. This poor Daoist now presses forward with a thick skin to request an invitation, hoping to personally present a congratulatory gift when Your Honored Sect reopens its mountain gate. I wonder what Your Daoist Friend thinks of this?"
If one spoke of courtesy, Daoist Xiao at that moment was truly courteous to the absolute extreme, yet this was precisely the attitude a grandmaster of a sect ought to possess toward a