Meng Chuan stood atop Wudang Mountain with his hands behind his back, his white robes fluttering. Every Wudang disciple glanced up at him now and then, thinking his bearing and looks truly belonged to a Banished Immortal!
Time passed, but Meng Chuan remained at the summit, waiting for the moment the world ascended.
As for the Wudang disciples, one who had kept looking up at Meng Chuan now had tears streaming down his face.
"Ah! Junior Brother, look at that senior. Has he grasped some profound truth of martial arts?" someone asked, surprised by the tearful disciple.
Was it really that powerful?
"Senior Brother, I have indeed grasped a truth," the junior brother calmly told his dear senior brother. "If you stare at the same person or thing for too long, your eyes will ache until they water!"
"???" Question marks seemed to cover the senior brother's face. What did he mean? His eyes had simply grown sore?
"Then why keep looking, Junior Brother?" he asked carefully, privately wondering whether his junior brother liked the feeling of tears running down his cheeks.
"Because I held my head up for so long that I've twisted my neck!" The junior brother's voice suddenly turned mournful. "Senior Brother, save me!"
The junior brother was carried away for treatment. The Wudang disciples buzzed with speculation about what their grandmaster's friend was doing. Some said he was cultivating; others said he was admiring the view.
"But after standing there so long, isn't that senior tired?"
A child suddenly voiced his confusion. He had only recently joined and had been frail since birth. Even holding a horse stance for a little while exhausted him, yet that senior had been standing there for ages!
Meng Chuan listened to the discussion below and took a deep breath.
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