Outside Siding Hall's fortified stronghold, a figure descended from the sky. Seeing how lively it was outside the fort, she frowned slightly.
Daoist Huifeng was delighted at the sight. "Institute Head!"
He was the more easygoing sort, but the cultivators of Siding Hall, whether inside or outside the stronghold, near or far, all immediately bowed in formal salute. Even Zhang Miaolin, who had always been rough-tempered, was no exception.
Ling Jiao looked over curiously and saw a Daoist nun clad in an everyday robe of blue cloth with black lapels, a wrapped kerchief on her head without a single stray hair showing, white socks around her feet, and round-toed blue cloth shoes. She was neat from head to toe, yet excessively plain, without a single ornament that might reveal a woman's disposition.
Yet her unpainted face was like jade, and her features graceful enough to please the eye. Only a faint crease between her brows suggested that she often bore worries she could not resolve. There was also a solemn, severe air sealed within her; her gaze was cold and clear, piercing as frost and snow when it fell upon others, making people instinctively reluctant to approach her.
Smiling, Ling Jiao greeted her. "So you're the Wingless Institute Head... Better than your reputation in person. You look like you'd be hard to deal with."
She lowered her voice for the latter half, speaking to Daoist Huifeng, but even Wang Shen could hear it. Daoist Huifeng coughed, about to introduce the various parties, when Ling Jiao, whose senses were the sharpest, gave a surprised sound and turned to look back.
She had merely been the first to react. The clash of True Person-level auras affected an area far beyond a hundred li, and Wingless, Daoist Huifeng, Zhang Miaolin, and the others