Before the Ancestral Witch Hall, the void rippled gently like the surface of water.
The next moment, space silently parted to either side, and three figures stepped out.
Di Jiang, who led them, was exceptionally tall, standing a full half-body taller than an ordinary Innate Divine Being. His shoulders and back were broad, and his long, dark-red hair hung loosely behind him.
He wore little in the way of elaborate adornment, only a robe woven in red and black. Layers of distorted spatial Dao patterns faintly drifted along its hem.
What drew the most attention, however, were his eyes.
His irises were extremely pale, almost silver-white. Wherever his gaze fell, even the surrounding void seemed to shift slightly out of alignment.
Houtu, standing beside him, gave an entirely different impression.
She was slender and wore a long apricot-yellow dress.
Her black hair fell to her waist. Her features lacked the ruggedness of an Ancestral Witch, possessing instead a touch of gentle beauty.
Yet when she stepped barefoot out of the void, a ring of heavy, earthen-yellow Dao patterns silently rippled through the ground beneath her, as though all of Buzhou Mountain were answering her presence.
"Fellow Daoist Qing Xuan, Fellow Daoist Qing Yi."
Di Jiang raised his hands in greeting, a hint of surprise on his face.
"We did not know you would be coming today. Forgive us for not coming out to welcome you."
Qing Xuan returned the greeting. "We arrived unannounced. We are the ones imposing on you."
"Buzhou Mountain has no such formalities."
Di Jiang glanced at the valley, which had yet to settle completely. "Besides, this place is hardly peaceful even on an ordinary day. We only ask that you overlook it."
Zhurong folded his arms without replying.
Gonggong, however, seemed not to have heard a