The carriage slowly came to a stop before a ferry crossing.
Jiang Yuechu stepped out of the carriage and stood upon the damp wooden pier.
Before her eyes—
Lone islets lay scattered like stars across a chessboard, water vapor rushing toward her with a bone-piercing chill.
Densely packed wooden boats, painted pleasure barges, and black-canopied vessels crowded the water's surface.
Common folk carried shoulder poles and pushed carts, hauling their families along with them.
Rogue Cultivators gathered in twos and threes, their expressions brimming with excitement.
People from utterly different walks of life were now all surging expectantly toward the boats.
"What are you shoving for?! If you make me late for the Thousand-Rain Grand Rite at Water Marsh Sect, I'll take your life!"
A burly Rogue Cultivator bellowed and shoved aside an old man blocking his path.
The old man did not dare grow angry. He repeatedly cupped his hands and bowed in apology. "Please calm your anger, Immortal Master, please calm your anger. This old man will move aside at once. I am also in a hurry to take my gravely ill grandson to Water Marsh Sect to beg for medicine."
Hearing this, the burly Rogue Cultivator snorted coldly. "Water Marsh Sect only opens its gates once every hundred years to dispense Jade Marsh Nectar. There is not even enough for us cultivators—when would it ever be the turn of mortals like you to enjoy it?"
The moment those words fell—
The common folk pushing carts and carrying loads nearby all stopped what they were doing, their gazes landing upon the Rogue Cultivator in unison.
Yet because he was a cultivator—
No matter how much fury burned in their hearts, no one dared truly speak up and rebuke him.
Just then—
At the prow of a black-canopied boat