The Golden Crow rose in the east, and daylight shone bright.
The clouds and mist among the mountains of Hidden Dragon Ridge slowly dispersed, revealing forests so lush and green they seemed to drip with verdure.
The yin grotto, once cold enough to pierce the bones and ravaged by dark mist, had also lost its chill. A great sun seemed to dwell within, steeping the ridge in warmth. The Golden Pagoda Trees, which normally flowered only in summer, now swayed with blossoms and hung heavy with fruit, drawing flocks of mountain birds.
Inside the Daoist abbey, the warmth was even more intense. Many Qi Refining cultivators sat breathing in spiritual energy, but it carried a force of utmost yang and unyielding strength. After only an hour or two, they were drenched in sweat, their qi seas scorching hot, and had no choice but to stop.
Those with higher cultivation, however, had already built huts around the yin cavern, doing all they could to absorb this great sun spiritual energy and cultivating diligently day after day.
Not only that, several sundials stood outside these bamboo huts. Once illuminated by the great sun, they gave off a mysterious suction, condensing the pure spiritual energy around the cavern into drops of "spirit pulp," which fell into golden cauldrons beneath the dials. In this way, they collected the rarely seen pure yang spiritual energy.
Directly before the yin cavern stood an exquisitely crafted bamboo hut. A small courtyard had been laid out in front, its ground paved with gravel. Inside stood a stone table bearing a small bronze incense burner, fragrant smoke curling up with an air of elegance.
At that moment, a radiant, poised woman sat on a stone stool in the courtyard. Looking at the sundials and golden cauldrons outside the bamboo