There was nothing to be done about it... When people failed to realize how vast the gulf between their stations was, they could often get along quite well.
But once they discovered they belonged to different ranks, they would often recoil from each other without even thinking.
Immortals were still people, after all. They could not escape that.
The three Rogue Cultivators, for instance, had been chatting happily with Tang Changsheng. Now they had suddenly grown distant, and the atmosphere had turned awkward.
Fortunately, the boat traveled swiftly, and the scenery around them was magnificent—sights rarely found in the mortal world. It was pleasant enough to pass the time.
Just then, a mass of dark cloud appeared behind them and raced closer like a galloping wild horse.
Tang Changsheng gave a low laugh. "What, was the Blackhead King not satisfied? Has he really come after us? You three go on ahead. I'll meet him!"
The Three Friends of Floating Cloud Cliff exchanged glances, then shook their heads. "This began because of us. How could we leave you to bear it alone, fellow Daoist? Besides, if the Blackhead King has come after us, he must have someone to rely on!"
Tang Changsheng said no more, for the dark cloud had already stopped before them. It parted to reveal an ugly Daoist.
Behind him glowed a halo, within which a murky, indistinct mass could faintly be seen.
Beneath his feet was a creature that was neither quite snake nor fish. It still bore wounds; presumably, it was the Blackhead King.
"Who dared injure my spirit beast? Step out and accept your death!" the Daoist screeched.
He was indeed a Qi-Refining Immortal, though only one who had barely begun.
Tang Changsheng knew as much the moment he saw the halo. The man could