Inside a private room at the Welcome Inn.
A sword rang out, and the Peachwood Sword returned.
Li Zizai collapsed with a thud, his head spinning.
He glanced at Xuanming and spoke, his face deathly pale. "Mas... Blargh!!!"
Watching his disciple vomit furiously, Xuanming shook his head helplessly. He still needed practice!
Other people got carsick or seasick.
This boy got swordsick.
How could a Daoist get swordsick?
Granted, the Peachwood Sword had gotten too excited, carrying Li Zizai up into the blue heavens and flying up, down, and all around the Zhen Residence, complete with vertical ninety-degree dives, but that was not the main reason.
If the boy were not prone to sickness, he ought to have enjoyed the thrills and reveled in them.
The pleasure of a bumpy ride was beyond words.
Pouring a cup of warm water, Xuanming handed it to his foolish disciple, then sat back on the couch, turned his left palm upward, and stared at it.
His divine sense entered Taiji Heaven and took Xuanming's form. Utterly unlike his scruffy appearance outside, he now had white hair, a long beard, and kindly features. Holding a fly-whisk, he looked every inch an immortal sage.
But to the suppressed Blackwater Mystic Serpent and Xu Youshan, his face was hateful.
The Blackwater Mystic Serpent shut its eyes and played dead, saying nothing.
Seeing this, Xu Youshan could only speak himself. He glared with Hatred at Xuanming and demanded, unwilling to accept defeat, "Who exactly are you?"
"I am the humble Daoist Xuanming. Greetings, Great Witch."
Xuanming gave a Daoist salute and spoke calmly.
Xu Youshan was shocked. "True Lord Xuanming of Fengyang Commandery!"
Xuanming chuckled and nodded.
"The Witch Tribe lives far away in the southern borderlands. Great Witch, did you conceal your identity and travel north